Frost Blue Eyes
by yaoiandcoffeeaddict
Summary: There is a reason for the chaos that goes on around Toki. When his birth parent, Loki, is set free from his amber prison and comes for his baby, what will Toki do? Mpreg, slash, T/S, C/OC, C/N,
1. Prologue

Prologue

The realm of Midgard was not as Loki remembered it nearly a thousand years ago when Odin had taken him and Thor on a tour around the realms. The human dwellings, once comprised of stone, wood, and mud with a design that allowed very little sunlight in, now were metal and glass, reached heights that rivaled those of Asgard, and poured out light when the sun had vanished from the sky. The people dressed differently as well. Animal hide and hair gave way to some sort of plant material that Loki found he much preferred on his skin. The appearance of the people had changed as well. Instead of a sea of red and blond hair, now there seemed to be a rainbow of skin, eye, and hair colors.

Yes, Loki decided. He could hide here, in what the Midgardians called "Norway", away from his father's disappointed gaze and Asgard's definition of what he should be. He could make a good life for himself, as what he was not sure, but something better than an outcast prince who had no worth to the court.

Sharp green eyes turned at the sound of a ringing, male laugh and saw two males sitting together on a low wall of stone with a food between them, one with hair of frosty gold and pale skin and the other with a dark black and a golden shimmer on his skin. The one with gold hair was whispering something in his companion's ear and causing the dark haired man to blush before wrapping a pale arm around him and bringing him in for a kiss.

Loki's green gaze widened. This was not two warriors sharing furs when no woman was available. This was two males in love. Perhaps here even "unnatural" Loki would find… someone.

So Loki built a life for himself among the mortals in an area a block away from the water. With the sale of old Midgardian coins, he had enough of the new currency to buy a tavern where he sold a variety of drinks and the best, sweetest mead in the city. Soon, people of all kinds were coming to his business and Loki was surprised to find that they were not coming simply for his 'magical' mead but him as well.

A year later, 1985, a tall man with auburn hair, glasses and hazel eyes in a suit entered his tavern. Charles. He was a lawyer and financial advisor for an American company who was checking up on his company's franchise. Loki immediately liked him. Behind the stiff posture was a dragon with cunning to rival Loki's own. Loki immediately fell in love but it wasn't until the man returned a year later that Loki used his silver-tongue to lure the man to his bed. For over three years Loki was happy. Charles' convinced his company why it was best for him to be transferred to its Norway branch and everything seemed to be wonderful. Charles moved in with Loki above the tavern and three months later slipped a ring on Loki's finger.

Then Charles began to notice some odd things about his lover. The occasional coldness of his skin could be explained by Loki's rare allergy to iron, but what of the strange ancient tongue he spoke in his sleep, the red that flashed his green eyes when Loki was angry at him, and the way some things just seemed to materialize around the apartment. He loved Loki, yes, but there was something nagging at him. Then, after three years together, Loki got sick. He was never sick.

On the fifth morning that Loki was in the bathroom puking, Charles popped his head in with his new huge cellular phone in his hand. "Loki? Have you been to a doctor yet?"

Loki glared at him before flushing the toilet.

"Loki, I'm serious. What if something is really wrong?"

"There is nothing wrong. It will go away, Charles."

"This could be serious. Even if it's not…. The flu still kills people, Loki. The doctor can give you something to help." Charles could not bring himself to mention HIV. Loki had not been a virgin when Charles met him. HIV in Norway was not as bad as in the states but it was still there. And Charles had seen its affects first hand on a mutual friend of theirs. Charles was instantly filled with the image of Loki in a hospital bed, pale as the sheets and gaunt as he struggled to breathe.

"No Charles," Loki stated as he washed his face in the bathroom mirror.

"I'm making an appointment," Charles responded as he dialed the number of his own doctor on his phone.

Loki's green eyes were suddenly filled with fear. "No."

"Yes, Loki," Charles replied as he raised the phone to his ear. "You're the love of my life. I'm not going to let you…Hi, Ida. This is Charles Ofdensen. I need to make an appointment with Doctor Jakob for today… No, for my partner, Lo…"

Loki hit the off button on the phone and shook his head violently. "Charles, I can't go to the doctor."

Charles sighed. Sometimes dealing with Loki was like dealing with an overgrown kid. "There's nothing to be scared of. He'll take some blood and saliva, listen to your heart and lungs, and then give us a prescription." He turned the phone back on and redialed the number.

"No, I can't go to the doctor."

"Loki…"

"I'm not human." There he said it.

Charles hung up the phone. "Want to run that by me again?"

"I'm not human."

"Then what are you?"

"I… I'm not too sure."

"Really, Loki, no more games."

"THIS ISN'T A GAME!" Loki shouted, his eyes flashing red. Loki lowered his gaze as tears streamed down his face and he clasped a hand over his stomach. "If I go to a doctor, they might know right away. My blood and saliva are probably wrong, my heart is on the opposite side, I have four lungs and two stomachs, and my... my reproductive system…"

Charles was silent for a while as his lover collapsed to the floor. Was Loki telling the truth or was his lover, his husband, delusional or had some other mental disorder he was unaware of? "Prove it."

Loki looked up. Green eyes lightened to blue and brown hair lightened to blonde then changed again. Different skin, eye and hair colors danced over the beautiful features before returning to normal. For a long time, they were silent. "I don't think I'm sick Charles."

"Then what?" Charles croaked out.

"I think I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Charles repeated apathetically. "Loki, I… If you are able to conceive why now? We've been having unprotected sex for over two years."

"This isn't the first Charles," Loki brokenly said. "The oth… other bab… babies… I couldn't hold them…"

"We… we had others?" Charles repeated. "How many?"

"Eight. I didn't even know they were there until I had blood on my thighs. This is the first one to… Where are you going?"

"Out. I need to…. I just need to get out… for awhile…"

Charles did not look back as he tugged on a jacket and went out the door. He wandered for hours, thinking over what he'd just found out. Loki… his Loki… was… and… Eight others. Would this one make it? Was… was he going to be a father? Father… a father… him… Loki with a child in his arms… would… would it even look okay… Loki… what was Loki… Did it matter?

When Charles returned to the apartment, Loki was gone.

TBC?

A/N: Major block for ACB right now and this story was bugging me so I thought I'd write it to get the juices flowing. What do you think?


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Charles had sworn almost two decades earlier that he would never return to Norway after his lover left him. How the event had happened had grown fuzzy over the years and Charles was convinced he was fed LSD at the time, but Loki was still gone by the time the drug worked its way out of his system. Charles waited a month to see if Loki would return before he packed up his stuff, shut down the tavern, and requested a transfer back to America to forget everything as quickly as possible.

Yet, Charles was a businessman. He always was and always would be. When it was apparent to him that Dethklok would make the most money touring the land of death metal, then he loaded up the private plane and made it happen. Dethklok was good, but with a little more exposure, they could be unstoppable.

A slight dinging noise broke Charles from his thoughts and he raised his eyes from his ledger to see the fasten seatbelt sign bold and clear in the lounge's bar window. The sign really was pointless, the boys would not follow it and would continue to play their pool game until they were forced to leave the jet. 'Schrew scheatbeltsch,' Murderface would complain. 'I'd rather die than have schomethin' choke my ballsch.' How a seatbelt would choke a guy's balls, Charles didn't know and didn't really want to find out. So, Charles gave up on trying and simply fastened his own seatbelt until the plane stopped.

When the sign finally clicked off, Charles knew they had landed. He unbuckled the strap and stood up, letting out a soft groan as his back cracked from the slumped position he'd been in for a few hours. "Okay, boys, we're here. The roadies already have your bags and instruments, minus Skwisgaar's guitar, on the tour bus, so we just need to make it through Oslo Airport without causing an international incident, then everything will be fine."

"Pfft, Norways am dildos countrys anyway. Be fines to be kicks out forevers," Skwisgaar commented as he stood up from his heavily padded lounge chair.

Charles felt a migraine coming on. Really the blonde was in his thirties and acted like an angsty teenager. Charles wondered sometimes if Skwisgaar was some sort of cosmic karma for all the wrong he had done in his life. "Regardless… we have five concerts to play here. The tickets of those concerts each reach over three million American dollars in sales so it would be a shame to refund them."

"Wow, that's a lot," Pickles commented in between using the two pool cues as drumsticks on the furniture.

"Well, that is the amount without factoring in the cost of renting the arena, equipment, pyrotech…" Charles noticed the band's eyes were glazing over and barely contained the sigh. "Yes, it's a fair amount," Charles amended.

"Cool. If we do all these concerts can we get a shark tank for the new house?" Nathan asked as he put his pool cue back on the rack.

"A shark tank?" Charles repeated.

"Yeah, a shark tank," Nathan confirmed, looking like an excited gorilla who had just been offered its favorite fruit. "I always wanted one of those."

"I suppose we could have a small one…" In his head, Charles was crunching numbers for the fee for the permits, the cost of building a shark tank and installing it along with natural and artificial filters, the cost of fish, and what species of shark would be the safest for the boys to have as a pet in case they also wanted to 'pet it'. Nurse and whale sharks were the only species that came to mind.

"AWESOME!" Nathan cheered, a big grin splitting his face into its most frightening mold. Charles had been unnerved the first time Nathan had smiled. Sharp teeth and feral eyes made him resemble an alligator or the shark that Nathan was craving as a pet. "Okay, guys, let's make sure we don't get kicked out. I want a shark tank."

Magnus raised a dark brown eyebrow but said nothing in response before putting his own pool cue away. He never really talked much anyway.

Without another word, the band began filing out of the jet. Nathan was the first to break the threshold of the gate and was greeted with the screams of anxious fans. He clasped his massive hands over his ears and hunched in pain as he mumbled something about remembering to never have a hangover around fans again. Skwisgaar was next, sky blue eyes scanning the crowd for the most desirable women to invite to the hotel later without breaking Norwegian law. Then silent Hammersmith, who grunted in acknowledgement of the crowd and waited at the gate for Charles to emerge so he could follow him out. Pickles trailed behind Magnus, skipping in an effort to relieve the energy he had from whatever drug he was on this week. The redhead smiled and waved to the crowd before jumping on the back of a tall roadie whose height rivaled Skwisgaar's with a "Giddy-up!" Last to emerge from the band was Murderface whose beady eyes scanned the fans for pretty women before he found a target and went to insult the woman to sleep with him. Even with the language barrier, the woman was not interested and all Murderface got was a kick in the balls.

Charles and the remaining roadies filed out last with some boxes and bags. Charles waved the boys over to follow before leading the way out of Oslo Airport. He'd practically lived at this Airport several years ago when his line of work had been far different and now he was still able to navigate his way to the waiting limo. If the boys noticed this was odd, no one made any comment.

/ / / / / / / ( 0.0 ) \ \ \ \ \ \ \

Once the boys were settled in the hotel suite and the roadies assigned their security posts, Charles planned on checking on the outdoor arena to make sure its construction was going according to plan. But, as usual, the boys protested his leaving their sight.

"Where ya goin'?" Pickles asked tugging on Charles's sleeve like a puppy trying to prevent its owner from leaving the house.

"To the concert venue to make sure everything is going as planned," Charles responded, carefully avoiding the big green eyes of the drummer. Green eyes had always been Charles's weakness.

"But whose gonna make me sandwiches the way I like 'em for lunch if you're not he'r? Ya know I'm nat allowed to use a stove or microwave no more…"

Charles bit back a sigh. Really, sometimes he had trouble remembering the drummer was only five years younger than him until he looked at the receding hair line and thinning dreads. "Roadie Twelve knows how you like your sandwiches…"

"He doesn't put the pickles in the shape of a smiley face…" Pickles whined, his green eyes glistening.

Charles shook his head, unable to believe he was going "Okay… fine. You can come with me and then I can make you a sandwich when we return to the hotel, okay? I think I need to pick up food any way…"

"I wanna go too!" Nathan said, emerging from his room.

"Mes as wells," Skwisgaar piped up from his place lounging on the couch fingering his guitar with his pale feet in a woman's lap as she gave him a foot massage.

"Hey. Isch no one inviting me?"

Magnus turned around in his seat and rose with a nod, indicating he was going to go too.

Charles simply shrugged and resigned himself to his fate of dealing with five teenagers for the day. Hours later, with one mishap after another due to one of the band members touching something they were not suppose to and two people on the construction crew with a bad injury but nothing life threatening, Charles found himself watching five adults trapeze around the grocery store he used to frequently visit years ago.

He was just picking out the freshest loaf of rye bread for Pickle's sandwich when he felt someone behind him. "Char?" came a soft, accented voice behind him. He turned and saw one of his former friends, Olaf, with a small basket on his arm. The years had not been kind to either of them but Olaf appeared the worst off. Olaf's forehead was set with long wrinkles and his clothes were hanging off of his once muscular frame and his skin was almost translucent. Charles recognized sickness when he saw it and he instantly felt guilty for losing touch with the man who had once been his best friend.

"_Hei_, Olaf," Charles responded with a tight smile. "How are you?"

"Speakings Anglish, Char?"

"Well I am a few decades out of practice with Norwegian, I'm afraid," Charles confessed as he found himself wrapped in a one-armed hug from the taller man.

"It's _god_ to see yous, Char." Olaf smiled. "I'm doin' okays now. As I'm sure you cans tell, I hads cancer but it's gone into remissions. Elsa is _god_ too. We has two teenagers now who needs to meet their Uncle Charles." He placed the basket down and opened his wallet to pull out a picture of two boys around thirteen with their mother's features but their father's dark blonde hair.

"I guess I'll have to stop by sometime."

There was an awkward moment of silence, the type of silence that only occurred when two people had so much to say but were unsure how to say it. "Yous know, your apartments is stills there, just boardeds up."

"Is it?"

"_Ja_, if yous ever wants to comes home…"

"It's not my home anymore, Olaf. Not since Loki left…"

"Charles…" came the familiar call as the redheaded drummer came sliding into the aisle. "There ya are. Nathan says he wants sushi fer lunch."

Charles didn't even blink before he turned to Pickles. Of course, when Dethklok comes to Norway, they want to stop at a Japanese restaurant. "And the sandwiches?"

Pickles shrugged. "Ya know if ya make 'em later, I'll eat 'em."

Charles nodded in agreement. "Very well." Charles glanced back at his friend Olaf. "Olaf, this is one the boys in the band I manage now, Pickles. Pickles, this is an old friend of mine, Olaf."

"Is pleasures to meets yous, Pickle." Olaf said as he wrapped the suddenly stunned drummer in a hug and giving Charles a wink of approval. Charles wished he could protest the misunderstanding… there was no way he would ever date someone who was constantly high and stank like an old brewery… but that would involve accidently coming out to his employers. "Yous take cares of my Charles, okays?" Olaf released him, then the Norwegian gathered his basket and left the two standing in awkward embarrassment.

"So… that was weird, huh?" Pickles finally commented, then shrugged and skipped away. Minutes later, the limo was stocked with groceries and the band was on its way to the closest and most highly rated sushi bar in Oslo. Charles was really hoping that the incident with Olaf would be forgotten but there was no such luck. A minute after the limo began moving, Pickles announced, "So Charles made a friend…"

"Reallys? Is she cute?" Skwisgaar asked, leaning over his guitar with interest.

"It was a guy."

"Gay," Murderface announced and Charles barely contained a flinch.

"A guy?" Nathan repeated with an unreadable expression before rounding on Charles, "I don't like the idea of you hanging out with strangers, Charles. There's a lot of weirdos out there."

"Yeah. What if the guy wantsch to like kidnap a robot or schomething to have asch a robot schex slave. Then where would _we_ be? I tell you, thatsch juscht selfisch."

Hammersmith looked Charles square in the eye and nodded in agreement.

"It was nothing like that," Charles replied as evenly as possible. "Olaf is just an old friend from when I used to live here in Oslo."

"Wait, you're Norwegians?" Skwisgaar exclaimed.

"No, I just worked for an American company in the '80s that happened to have a Norwegian branch that they wanted me to look after."

"You worked somewhere else before Dethklok?" Nathan asked as though he just found out the world had a country named Australia. "How come I… we… didn't know about it?"

"You… uh… never asked."

"He's right. We never did ask what he did before us," Pickles confirmed.

"I guesch they had to reprogram him at the factory then."

"So, what did you do before you met us?" Nathan asked, leaning forward in the seat just as the limo rolled to a stop outside the restaurant.

"Oh, look, we're here," Charles stated, distracting the band from their new line of questioning. Thankfully, none of the boys save Hammersmith had a very long attention span so they quickly forgot their interrogation in favor of slices of raw fish. Pickles bounced out of the car first and the others followed suit.

"Do you think they have pufferfish?" Charles heard Nathan ask his band-mates.

"I wonder if they has herrings sushies," Skwisgaar noted.

The inside of the restaurant was very clean and modern- chrome, white, and black with small splashes of blue and red from some Japanese family heirlooms and large glass windows to let the light of the afternoon sun in. They were greeted by a Norwegian waitress with long gold blonde hair pulled back in a harsh braid and shown to a table in the corner.

"Can I starts you outs withs anything?" the waitress asked, pen poised on her little notepad.

"Do ya have any beer?" Pickles immediately asked.

The waitress blinked but replied, "Yes, we has the…"

"I'll take three bottles of whatever ya got in stock," Pickles cut her off.

"Me too," Nathan agreed.

"Me too."

"I wants the three beers toos."

Hammersmith nodded at her and pointed to himself in agreement. Charles noted the waitress's smile tightened at the action of the silent man before turning her light brown eyes to Charles.

"I'll just have hot tea," Charles announced, mentally preparing himself for the job of dealing with a very drunken band for a few hours and trying to prevent an international incident.

An hour later, after picking a very drunk Pickles up off the restaurant bathroom and putting him in the floor of the limo on his side, Charles got a weird feeling. He did a quick survey of the group and noticed someone was indeed missing. "Boys, where is Magnus? Is he still in the restaurant?"

Skwisgaar looked around. "He was right heres…"

Charles felt another migraine coming on. One of these days, he knew the boys were going to kill him by giving him an aneurism from the stress. "Did anyone see where he went?"

The door of the limo opened and Magnus appeared clutching an obviously human shaped bundle to his chest wrapped in a frayed and strained cotton blanket. He ignored the curious looks of his band-mates and slid onto the cushioned seat without a word.

"Hey!" Murderface yelled. "I thought we agreed there were to be no schluts in the limo without band approval!"

The blanket whimpered and curled into itself in Magnus's arms.

"I don't thinks that's a sluts," Skwisgaar stated the obvious as he craned his long, pale neck for a glance into the bundle's contents.

Nathan was far less subtle, capturing an edge of the blanket and dragging the corner down to reveal the face of a very starved and beaten teenager with long light brown hair and large, scared eyes in a frosty blue shade. "Awe… can we keep him?"

/ / / / / / / ( 0.0 ) \ \ \ \ \ \ \

Charles was sure he'd be completely bald before they left Norway as he was nervously raking his hair back while trying to reason with five grown men with the IQ of a potato. "For the last time boys, we cannot keep him. In fact, we need to get rid of him immediately. If the media found out you brought a teenager in your hotel room, you can bet there will be intense speculation as to what that kid was doing here. Five grown men kidnapping and hoarding a young Norwegian boy… it could be the end of your career."

"But look at 'im, dude," Pickles pleaded, gesturing to the boy in the corner between the couch and the chair of the hotel suite's living room gazing at the pattern in the carpet with some sort of make-shift doll clutched in his swollen arms. The flushed cheeks and forehead were a sign that he was probably running a fever. "He's messed up."

"So are a lot of kids in the world, Pickles. Look… the only way to help this kid is to call the police. They'll come in, take the kid to the hospital and put him in a home that can take care of him."

"So he can bes beats ups in fosters systems?" Skwisgaar questioned.

Charles wanted to scream. "Not all foster homes are that bad."

"How would ya know, Charles? Huh?" Pickles asked. "Were you ever in the foster system? I was. Ma parents thaught I was becomin' a bad in.. in…"

"Influence?" Charles supplied.

"Yeah… influence, on my brother so they sent me into the foster system for a year. Two bad families even worse than mine and I ran away to Los Angeles."

"Well, the Norwegian foster system is probably diff…"

"How do you know?" Nathan asked.

"Well… I don't but we can ask the police when they get here how their system works." Five distrustful stares bore into Charles. Outnumbered and knowing that he couldn't persuade them anyway, Charles sighed and said, "Look, the kid needs to be seen by a doctor first. I'll hold off calling the police until the kid is better and in the meantime I'll be doing research on the Norwegian Child Services program. If I don't like what I see, I'll… I'll look into adopting him okay?"

Charles was tackled in glee by a small redhead at the news and Charles instantly knew he would regret his words. His instincts were proven right only a moment later when Nathan approached the battered teen.

"You hear that kid?" Nathan asked, stooping down to the kid's eye level. "You're going to be staying with us."

Frost blue eyes just blinked in confusion and clutched his little straw doll even tighter.

To Be Continued…

* * *

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

A/N:Thank you bloodpocky for your review and words of encouragement!


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After talking with the police and being told there had been no child matching the boy's description reported missing by his teachers or parents, the police determined that this was probably a case of severe abuse, catalogued the injuries, and offered to place the boy in a foster home. Charles had never seen the boys care so deeply about anything but themselves. He knew they didn't like police but their stream of curse words at the suggestion coupled with the way Pickles wrapped the child in his arms, Charles knew he was stuck. Before he knew it, he was arranging to have adoption papers filed before the band finished their tour in Norway. Now, all they needed was a name.

Charles found it almost eerie how well the unnamed foundling fit in with the band. Maybe it was because each member saw some piece of themselves in the boy. Like Hammersmith, the boy but was able to communicate what he needed just fine when he really required something; though it was clear he was very hesitant that first week as to what he was suppose to do and if he should even ask for something like food in the first place. The boy liked to follow Magnus around the most and Hammersmith treated the boy like his protégé, even teaching the boy to play his guitar.

Not to be outdone, Skwisgaar had also tried to give the boy lessons and quickly grew frustrated with it. His interaction with the new member soon became that of a jealous older brother, insulting the kid for something small but not allowing anyone else to hurt the boy's feelings.

Nathan treated the boy like a pet, patting him on the head and asking every time he spotted him, "Who's a good boy? Who's my favorite bunny?"

Pickles, who was never good at looking after himself, was surprisingly responsible with the boy. Pickles was the one who woke him up for breakfast, combed his hair, and kept him away from the boys' stash of alcohol and drugs and Murderface's knife collection. Pickles was the one who took the boy out shopping for clothes and made sure he was taking his antibiotics. Of course, this didn't stop Pickles from drinking himself into a near coma the minute the kid was out of the room, he just made sure he set the alarm before he opened a can of beer.

As for Murderface, well… he was the only one who hadn't completely warmed up to the new houseguest. Charles reasoned it was because of the kid getting more attention than him. For the most part, Murderface would just ignore him when the kid was in the same room or simply grumble something under his breath and walk away. Yet, Charles could tell it would be only a matter of time before Murderface did something cruel to the new kid and the longer he suppressed the urge to be a dick, Charles knew the action would be worse.

Murderface chose when the band was preparing for their concert later that night and packing up their stuff they didn't want the roadies to handle. When, Charles had been using the small dining table as his desk and the kid had been playing quietly and alone with his straw doll on the couch, finally relaxed enough that he wasn't eyeing anyone as a potential threat, and Murderface simply walked over and snatched the doll from his hands.

The kid blinked at him in confusion and held out his hands, expecting it to be given right back. Murderface just laughed cruelly, "Awe, doesch the wittle baby want hisch toy?"

The kid began to shake, obviously scared. Charles knew that if he interfered, William would just make sure to mess with the kid even worse when Charles wasn't around. So he stayed quiet and observed the interaction out of the corner of his eye.

"Come on, if you want the toy you're going to have to schay schomethin'," Murderface pressed, dangling the doll in front of the kid before gripping one of the doll's arms. "I guesch you don't want the doll, then." He then proceeded to rip a straw arm off the doll.

The kid was on Murderface quicker than Charles could blink. Before Charles could stop him, the kid was punching the bass player in the face and yelling in a croaky and obviously little used voice, "_Ingen! Han er min! La min venn alene!_" Well, at least now they knew the kid was actually Norwegian and not smuggled from somewhere.

The first two members of the band to come running were Pickles and Nathan. "Whoa, brutal," Nathan commented before pulling the kid off William and handing the flailing boy to Pickles, who was having slight trouble controlling him. A few soothing words later and the kid had stopped flailing and had gone into a comatose state.

"What the hell did you do to Toki?"

"Nothin'," William lied, still lying on the ground and holding what most likely a broken nose shut with his fingers. "I juscht wal'd by and he flipped out! I thin' we schould get rid of 'im, he's a wild animal. He will 'ill usch all in our beds!" His accent was even harder on the ears with a broken nose.

"Toki?" Charles found himself questioning. The boy's name was Toki? That wasn't Norwegian as far as he knew. And it was so close to his ex's name he immediately didn't like it.

"Well, we have to call him somethin' and I heard that name in one of those Japanese cartoons last night so… Hey!" A light bulb just seemed to go off in Nathan's head and he rounded on Charles faster than a trapped tiger, "What were you doin' when all this was happenin'?"

"Yeah, Dude," Pickles agreed as he sat the apathetic boy on the couch and kept a hand on his shoulder. "You're supposed to be his dad now! Where were you?"

Charles blinked, completely flabbergasted by the fact the boys had remained on the same train of thought for more than five minutes. "Well it appeared 'Toki' had everything under control so…"

"Ya know Murderface is a dick and you let him mess with your kid?"

"Well, he's not my kid. He's not even officially a foster child that we have custody of yet…"

"That's bull and you know it!" Nathan growled as Murderface tried to move away and retreat. "And where do you think you're goin'?"

"I 'ell you I didn't do nothin'!"

Pickles had a rare moment of understanding and realized when he looked down, "Dude, Toki's clown is on the floor and its straw arm is busted."

"I didn' do i'!" William protested as Nathan seized him by his vest.

"Fix it NOW!"

"Why should I? Jusch' giv' me one gu… OW! Motherf… Charles are you jusch' gonna le' 'em…" Murderface whined as Nathan let him drop back to the floor hard enough to give him a concussion.

Charles made no move to help the bass player. "Well, William, I believe this should be a lesson to you on how to treat others. I suggest you attempt to fix the doll and apologize to Toki."

William huffed as he reached for the doll. "Fine!" He grabbed the straw remains and attempted to jab it back into place with his bloody fingers. It soon became apparent that that way was not going to work and the other arm soon was tumbling out of its place. Straw was soon lying in strands and sticking up on the carpet floor. It was, in short, just a huge mess. "Schrew i'!" Murderface in his frustration just threw the doll to the opposite corner of the room. "I'm gonna 'a'e care of my 'ose." He left the room holding his nose with one guilty side look at the kid sitting on the couch.

Pickles, meanwhile, had been trying to shake the kid out of it. After several minutes of nothing, the redhead was hysterical. "Dude… he's not movin'! Charles, call someone. Toki's broken!"

/ / / / / / / ( 0.0 ) \ \ \ \ \ \ \

A few hours later, Charles was backstage in the rented dressing trailer with his boys as the roadies tested the sound equipment. Murderface was stiff, his face still swollen and purple and his eyes refusing to meet anyone else's in the trailer. It was likely he wasn't going to be wearing the custom make-up for quite awhile, so he was mostly ready to perform right there. Nathan was giving William a death glare every few minutes as he tried to coax 'Toki' awake with a gentle nudge or offering him something.

Toki's withdraw was affecting everyone else in the band as well. Skwisgaar was attempting to act normal, chatting up one of the groupies in his lap and ignoring the silent Norwegian sitting next to him. However, the furious pace of his fingers on the guitar demonstrated his agitation. Magnus was simply staring out the window of the trailer, obviously unable to think of anything to do. Pickles was coping the only way he knew how- drinking himself into almost an unworkable condition. Charles quickly subtly signaled a roadie to switch some of the alcohol with flavored water before the redhead drummer died of alcohol poisoning.

"Sir," a roadie said, entering the room with a case of bottled water. "It's ten minutes to show time. The opening band is already on stage."

"Thank you, Roadie 15," Charles acknowledged, standing up and straightening his suit subconsciously. "Well, boys, I think…"

"That Tokis ams the crybabys?" Skwisgaar asked, flipping his hair back as the groupie reached over to play with it. "We knows." He turned his crystal blue eyes on the Norwegian and hissed, "_Sluta vara en crybaby. Jag kommer att ge dig en ny docka._" Charle's Swedish was rusty but he thought the guitarist was promising the boy he was going to either buy or make him a new doll if he stopped being a crybaby.

Toki blinked, but remained silent.

Skwisgaar sighed, rudely pushed the groupie off his lap, and made a sound of annoyance as he strode past the comatose kid to leave the trailer. Magnus followed, then Nathan, then a slightly stumbling Pickles, and lastly a guilty looking Murderface who whispered a quiet, "I'm schorry," as he passed the Norwegian.

Charles lingered in the trailer after everyone, including the groupie had cleared out and knelt down to Toki's level.

His Norwegian was rusty, but he had to try to reach the disturbed boy. He cleared his throat as he attempted to search for the words he wanted to say. "_Je… jeg bekla..lager om doll, Toki. _[I am sorry about your doll, Toki.]"

It took several seconds before the pupils of the frost blue eyes dilated and turned to meet his. Pale lips opened and closed before the boy finally got the courage to say something, "_Men han var min eneste venn…. Jeg har ingen nå. _[He was my only friend. I have no one now.]"

Curious, Charles pressed on with his questioning after roughly translating the answer in his head. "_Hvorfor sier… du det? _[Why do you say that?]"

So Toki began his sad tale, speaking slowly and softly so Charles was able to translate each sentence, "_No one ever wants me around. I was abandons in the snow as a baby because I ams a freak. Reverends and his wifes of nearbys village finds me and takes me in. To repays them, I hads to do chores arounds the village. I ground wheats and barleys, I fishes in the frozen lakes, I watches over the herds in the blizzards. But I could never dos anything right. I ground grains too much or too little, I catches only the fishes that has lampreys feastings on thems, I lose a calves to wolfs._" Those beautiful blue eyes glistened with unshed tears as the boy refused to meet his gaze. "_But I keeps tryings to please thems. I stays quiet. I keeps outs of the church 'cause its no place for somethings likes mes. Clowns was the only things whats always smiles at me._"

Charles didn't know quite what to say in response to Toki's tale, partly because he was unsure if he translated the words correctly. So, he settled for another question, "_So what is your real name?_"

"_I don'ts has ones_," the boy admitted, staring at the carpet.

"_No one in the village called you anything?_"

"_They calls me Devil and Trickster, but I donts thinks thems am names_." Scared blue eyes suddenly met Charles' own hazel. "_You're not going to sends me backs, right?_"

Charles found he got a very sickening feeling in his stomach at the thought of sending anyone to that fate. There was also something at the back of his mind was bugging him about the story. There was obviously much more to Toki's past than what he was willing to tell right then and more than Charles was willing to ask. "_No, we're not sending you back._"

"_Whys?_"

"_Well… for one, I would never subject a child to go through that kind of treatment. Also, the band is fond of you and has persuaded me to adopt you. You're going to live with us from now on._"

"_You wants me?_"

"_Yes, Toki_," Charles replied. "_You don't have to be alone anymore."_

"_Reallys? You won't just throw mes away likes trash. You promises?_"

"_Considering both the Norwegian and United States Governments will soon have me registered as your father, I would consider such action a very unwise decision._"

The boy blinked in confusion before asking quietly, "_You's going to bes my papa?_"

Charles froze. Dear god, he really was going to be someone's father. Despite the fear coursing through his veins at the thought, he nodded. Then, quicker than Charles could blink, he had his arms full of a grateful Norwegian child. A moment later, a loud clash of thunder ripped the sky just as Nathan's mighty roar and Pickles' drums came to life and vibrated the metal walls of the trailer with their intensity.

"_Do_ _you want to go watch the band play?_" Charles asked when Toki finally released him. An excited brunette head bobbed up and down in enthusiasm. Moments later, they were standing on the side of the side of the stage, watching the long locks of blonde and black swirl in a memorizing pattern to the beat of the magical notes of the guitar and bang of the drums.

/ / / / / / / ( 0.0 ) \ \ \ \ \ \ \

The next day, the band loaded their equipment on a rented tour bus and took off for their next location. So far, Charles had been proven correct in his belief that holding concerts in Norway would boost Dethklok's popularity. The label had called earlier that morning and claimed that all the albums from Oslo to Lillehammer were sold and three times as much stock as before had been ordered from the record stores. Fan sites had started to spring up like weeds in a lawn that had been left alone for a month, the most popular of them being '.'

Before they reached their next destination, the head of the label called to tell them there was now a program on a music video channel called "_The Dethklok Minute_." Charles asked for a copy of the first show to be sent to them through the internet and the boys were amazed to see their every actions being emulated and analyzed by fans and pop culture experts.

Nathan summed up the events the best. Awesome.

Since his chat with Toki the night before the concert, the boy still didn't say much but Toki appeared deliriously happy. For the road, Charles bought the boys and Toki a variety of things to occupy their time. There were board games, video games, books with pictures, coloring books, pencils, and school books. Charles was surprised to see Toki latch onto the book on mathematics immediately and soon had ten of twenty one sections done. Perhaps when Toki had more schooling, Charles would finally have someone other than the occasional roadie to talk finances and strategy with, that is… if the boys didn't corrupt him.

"Dude, what cha doin' readin' this kinda stuff?" Pickles asked, pointing to book where Toki was trying to uncover the meaning of y. "It's not metal." He pet Toki on the head and tried to steer the young man towards the Nintendo device lying idle beside him.

Charles sighed. There went that hope.

"Leaves him be Pickle," Skwisgaar said, not even looking up as he watched a movie on the bus's small screen. "Tokis likes the numbers. He needs numbers to be managers likes his Papa."

Charles nearly choked on his own tongue at the thought. God help Dethklok and the world if he wasn't around in the future.

"Hey, Toki what's that around your neck?" Nathan asked as he spotted something and reached forward to grasp it before Toki could move away. Charles caught a flash of bright amber stone before Toki yanked it back. Nathan shrugged and moved to a vacant chair to join Skwisgaar in watching his movie.

* * *

To be continued…

**_PlEaSe ReViEw_**

Thank you for your reviews:

Bloodpocky- If my muse is inspired and I'm not depressed, I can write pretty fast.

YvetteD- Hope this chapter was okay.

I forgot my password- this chapter was slightly slow but I hope you liked it.

A/N: I apologize if there is any confusion in this chapter. I used an online translator for the Swedish and Norwegian and later switched to English to make it both easier for the reader and to indicate that Charles is once again picking up on how to speak Norwegian so he can better help Toki learn English. The words looked right to me, but if there are any mistakes please let me know.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Charles sighed in relief when he ripped open the envelope that had been delivered earlier that day while the band was setting up for their last concert in Norway. Inside the bumble-wrapped brown envelope were the documents he'd been waiting weeks for- a passport, adoption papers, and a new birth certificate. They had come just in time; Charles had been afraid that he wouldn't legally be allowed to take Toki out of the country and Charles would have to either remain in Norway until the papers were processed or leave the child behind with Roadie 12 while they continued their Scandinavian tour. But here they were…

Charles found himself smiling as he looked over the adoption papers and birth certificate. _Name: Toki Haakon Ofdensen_. Charles had tried to select 'Haakon' as Toki's first name but had quickly been vetoed by the band. _Date of Birth: October 31, 1989, 00:01_. Because Toki didn't know when he was born, Pickles suggested they list his birthday as midnight on Halloween. _Place of Birth:_ _Oslo, Norway_. It only seemed natural that they list the place they had found him as his place of birth. _Mother… _

Charles blinked and checked again, thinking his eyes were tired and playing tricks on him. They were not. _Mother's Name: Nathan Explosion_. Charles looked did a quick glance through the adoption papers. Written on the copy in big bold letters was the unmistakable signature next to adoptive mother's name. Snatching up the paper, he left the tour bus to go find the singer. He found him sitting on the edge of the stage with Toki drinking a cup of coffee as he tried to teach the boy English while the roadies set up the equipment.

"Stage," Nathan said pointing to their current platform. "Cup. Amp. Guy. Girl…"

Charles stomped his way across the stage and interrupted the English lesson. "Nathan, just what is this?" he demanded angrily as he waved the paper in front of Nathan's face.

"Uhhhh… it's a piece of paper," Nathan said with confusion. "I thought you would know that."

"Yeah, robot. Your optischs not workin'?" Murderface teased from his position on the opposite side of the stage as he ate a sandwich and smeared huge globs of mustard into his mustache.

"Paper," Pickles repeated as he moved to sit next to Toki on the edge of the stage. "Can you say paper, Toki? Pay-purr."

"Pay-purr," Toki obediently repeated and earned a hair ruffle from a very pleased drummer.

"I'm talking about what's on the paper," Charles hissed. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Uhhhhh… no?"

"You signed your name on Toki's adoption papers!"

"Oh? Yeah… there was a blank spot and I wanted to make sure it was all filled out. Umm… how is that bad?"

"You signed your name as the mother, Nathan. Toki is now legally your son as well and to make matters worse the adoption is going to make people…" Charles' rant was broken by the beeping of his cell phone. Pulling it out, Charles saw it was Crystal Mountains Records' main office calling him. "Hello, Charles Ofdensen speaking."

"_Charles, it's Roy Cornickelson_."

"Uh, yes Roy. How may I help you?"

"_Have you watched the Dethklok minute today_?"

"No, I thought that only comes on at eleven o'clock in the evening in the States?"

"_Yes, it came on just a little while ago and the footage was just brought to my attention. Is it true that you've adopted a Norwegian child with your lead singer?_"

"It would appear so. However,…"

"_What exactly is your relationship with Nathan Explosion_?"

Charles felt heat rise to his cheeks. He knew this would happen if anyone found out before they corrected the adoption papers. This was going to be a very delicate situation seeing as Charles had no idea what Roy's stance on homosexuality was. "Well…" he struggled to come up with a way to put this delicately. If he denied it and Charles' sexuality was ever exposed to the media, he could be seen as a liar.

"_Charles, I'm not asking as the leader of your record label, I am asking as a friend. If you are, I don't think it is a wise decision. Over the years, I've noticed a lot of musicians tend to sleep around. While you might allow that kind of thing, it doesn't allow for a stable relationship or a stable home down the…_"

Charles imagined he was flame red right now. It was like getting a sex talk from his father. "Roy, I'm not in a relationship with Nathan," he cut the executive off. "There was a mix up with paper work when I filed to adopt a homeless boy the band is fond of."

There was silence on the other line for the space of several seconds before Roy recovered. "_You adopted a child because Dethklok liked him? You do realize this is not a goldfish…_"

"Yes," Charles sighed. He was highly aware of that fact.

"_Well… in that case… I'll arrange a press conference concerning the matter soon._"

Charles was very relieved. That was one thing he could scratch off his to do list. "Thank you, Roy."

"_You're welcome, Charles. Tell the boys I wished them good luck with the concert tonight._"

"Will do. Good night."

"_Good night._" Charles hung up the phone and turned back to the boys. Murderface was laughing uncontrollably on his end of the stage, his forgotten sandwich smeared all over his clothes; Pickles was blinking rapidly in confusion; and Nathan's mouth was open in astonishment.

"Dude…" Pickles finally said. "You two are toge'her?"

"WHAT!" Nathan shouted. "NO!"

"It's okay if you're gay. There's nothin' wrong with it."

"I'm not gay," Nathan growled.

"Dude, you can admit it. I won't treat ya any diff'rent."

"Juscht schtay away from me. I don't wanna catch it."

"You can't catch gay, Murderface."

"But that's what the guy on T.V. said."

"Pfft, ams Republicans and religious dildos not knowings what they's talkings abouts," Skwisgaar voiced as he magically appeared from somewhere trailed by Hammersmith.

"Have you been listening this entire time?" Charles inquired.

Skwisgaar shrugged his shoulders and feigned a look of innocence and ignorance. "Maybes."

"I AM NOT GAY!" Nathan repeated, his shouting finally frightening the confused child to his right enough that Toki was running to Charles' arms.

Charles sighed as he wrapped his arms around the trembling boy and pet his fine, silky hair. "Shhh, it's alright._Er det ok._" Once Toki began to relax, Charles turned back to Nathan and replied, "Yes, Nathan, I know you're not gay. However, by you signing your name next to mine on the adoption papers without properly reading them, you have created a misunderstanding in the media. Now we need to hold a press conference to do damage control and re-file Toki's adoption papers. Perhaps this will teach you not to sign something without fully understand it."

"But Nathans makes such a prettys moms for Tokis," Skwisgaar argued with a snicker.

"That may be," Charles agreed just to torture the man who had caused all this mess, "but we need to get this straightened out with the public before this begins to affect our bottom line."

"W'at do ya mean?" Pickles asked, blinking his eyes again. Charles suddenly realized he must have done cocaine earlier that day for his eyes to be so dilated.

"I mean that it could start to affect the band's record and concert sales."

"Why? Just because yous and Nathans ams gays?" Skwisgaar asked. When Charles nodded, Skwisgaar flipped, "That's dildos. Why's it peoples busy-eye-ness whats you dos in bedrooms?"

"It's not but this is one of the drawbacks to being famous; some people like Murderface have a problem with it and will refuse to buy your records," Charles explained as he tried to untangle himself from Toki's arms, only to give up after a few seconds. This boy was definitely desperate for affection. It was obvious Toki was in need in counseling but they were leaving Norway a few hours after the concert so they would probably have to wait for Toki to learn more English to find a psychiatrist or employ a translator for the sessions. That is, if the boys allowed a psychiatrist near the kid.

"Hey, I just had a thought. If Nathan ain't Toki's Mam no more, who is?"

"I volunteers Murderface," Skwisgaar replied with a straight face. Hammersmith was laughing silently beside him.

"What, no way! F(guitar rift) you, Skwisgaar," Nathan piped up, an odd expression on his face.

"Toki needs a Mommas and Papas."

"No, he does not," Charles countered. "He has you boys and me to care for him."

" 'Sides it's not like our mams have done us any good," Pickles grumbled. "I know my mam hasn't. Murderface's mam's dead, Hammersmith's mam attacked me once with a knife, Nathan's mam never really acknowledged him until he was ten, and yours only taught you sexual sex positions."

"Was val…val-you-ables informaskins," Skwisgaar defended.

That information explained so much that Charles really had no desire to find out. He decided to change the topic, "Alright boys, enough standing around. We have a stage to set up and a concert to prepare for."

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

The rest of the day had been uneventful. The stage had been set up, the marks laid out, the equipment sound-checked. It was when the last warming rays of sunlight were leaving the earth, fifteen minutes before the band was to go on, when Charles received another phone call from Crystal Mountain Records. "Hello, Charles Ofdensen speaking."

"_Hi, Charles, it's Roy again._"

"Hello, Roy. What can I do for you?" Charles immediately saw Nathan, Pickles and Magnus become interested from their spots near Toki where they had been applying the ritual concert paint onto the excited boy in their boredom. Great, Charles was sure the boy would find a way to get some of the make-up on his suit before the end of the night.

"_I've scheduled the press conference for after tonight's show. I figured it was best to get the situation under control as soon as possible_."

Charles swallowed. That didn't sound good and Charles wondered how full the concert was going to be that night. "I take it the band's profit has been badly affected in the last few hours."

"Stupids, dildos fans," Skwisgaar commented as his fingers flew over the latest song in a blurred frenzy.

"_It's a little too soon to tell, but Dethklok's popularity does not appear to have been affected by the newscast yet. I just do not want to take a chance by waiting to see the outcome of the report._"

"I understand, however, I'm not sure the boys are ready for a press conference right now." In the past, the preparation for any press conference took several days of sobering and careful instruction and even then did Charles almost find himself lapsing into the old habit of biting his fingernails off.

"_Charles, we need to get this situation dealt with as fast as possible._"

Charles sighed. "Very well. Thank you, Roy_._" After Roy again wished him luck with the concert, he looked at the boys. Five empty cans of beer were left forgotten near Magnus's chair and even more around Pickles and Nathan. Skwisgaar and Murderface had been smoking pot and the forgotten joints were left smoldering in a nearby crystal ashtray. It wasn't as bad as some earlier concerts, but Charles would have to make sure the boys had plenty of water to flush the booze out of their system. Charles was extremely glad there was no cocaine or meth this time.

"Alright boys, the record label has set up a press conference after the show."

"W'at for?" Pickles whined as he reached up to scratch his dreads.

"Well, it's to clarify Toki's adoption and my relationship with Nathan." Charles could hear the song of the opening band start up in the distance. Ten minutes 'til showtime.

"Oh, scho you homosch are finally comin' out of the closchet?"

"Good for yous, makings honest mans of Charles," Skwisgaar commented before taking a drink of the ice water he had sitting to his left.

"No, boys, we discussed this earlier today," Charles replied, cutting off any protest Nathan was going to give. "Nathan and I are not, I repeat, NOT in a relationship and Toki's adoption papers are going to be re-filed."

"But what if I don't want them to be re-filed?" Nathan asked as his large, manicured hands pulled Toki's long hair back into a neat, low ponytail with a purple hair-tie.

Charles was taken back. "What do you mean you don't want the papers to be re-filed?" He was beyond frustrated now. He would not be surprised if the stress gave him a heart attack in the next five minutes.

"I kinda, uh, like the idea of Toki being my son. The little goof-ball has kinda grown on me."

Charles restrained himself from bashing his own head into the nearest wall in frustration. Taking a deep breath, Charles managed to say as kindly as possible, "Nathan, while I understand that you care a great deal for Toki, this matter is serious. Toki is not a goldfish. If something should happen to me, you would be responsible for Toki's well being- his schooling, his food, his health, the roof over his head and any other duties that come with raising a child. Do you really think you would be able to put someone else before yourself and care for them for the rest of your life."

"Uhhhhhh," Nathan stammered. "Yeah."

Whatever Charles was going to say next was broken by a roadie announcing the five minute warning. There were the typical grumbles of lazy and tired musicians as they left the trailer and the situation was completely forgotten in the bands' minds.

The next few hours of the concert, Charles could not allow himself to relax and enjoy the sheer power of the music. His stomach was in knots as he stood off to the side and watched the press quietly accumulate back stage and roadies set up chairs and microphones. A sudden flash of light came from his left and he belatedly realized one member of the press had spotted him and taken a picture. There was another movement and Charles noticed his new son had come to find him in a sleepy daze. Charles could not decide which was worse- five grown men who acted like teenagers or a teenager who acted like a clingy toddler.

The teenager held out his arms as though begging to be picked up without a word. This worked on Nathan and Magnus, but Charles knew his back would not be able to handle the extra hundred pounds. Charles shook him head no and pointed to a nearby cushioned chair, hoping the boy could curl up there on his own. When Toki didn't move, Charles sighed and sat down in the chair and motioned for the boy to join him. Toki curled up on his lap, his face resting on Charles' shoulder and smearing the inevitable white face paint on his dark suit. More flashes went off and Charles did his best to ignore them.

As he heard the final cords of the final song ring out, his upset stomach was threatening to rebel on him. He'd never before been this anxious over a press conference before and Charles casually wondered if he was more nervous because he was afraid of what the boys would do when they hadn't been properly prepared or because the press was here to discuss his own personal life.

The final note echoed its farewell and Pickles voice suddenly sounded out, "Good night Trondheim!" There was thunderous applause and the sound of heavy boots shuffling on stage before the boys began to file backstage. Magnus was the first one down. His eyes roamed the scene amassing before them- the sea of reporters with microphones, cameras and notepads at the ready. He turned to Charles and croaked out, "Where?"

Charles had forgotten that Magnus could speak when he needed to. "Just pick a seat at the large table at the front. I will join you in a second but I have to get the teenager off my lap first."

Without being asked to, Magnus leaned down and scooped the small Norwegian into his arms as though Toki actually was a toddler and took a seat at the far left of the large table, ignoring the onslaught of light bulbs. Well, there went Dethklok's reputation as unfeeling metal gods. Charles got out of the chair and took a seat in the middle. Skwisgaar was the second one backstage, most of his stage make-up already wiped off. He towered over the crowd and glaring at them over his long, slim nose before going over to sit by Magnus. He leaned back in the cushioned chair and looked the very image of bored.

Nathan was next, his stage make-up still on but smeared from a night of screaming and head-banging under hot stage lights. When he took a seat between Charles and Skwisgaar, Charles could see the patches of sweat on his clothes. He was immediately followed by Pickles, who took the empty seat next to Nathan and stage-whispered, "Murderface ain't comin'. He said he had somethin' better to do."

"Does thats means I cans goes toos?"

"No," Nathan answered with a glare at Skwisgaar before turning back to the crowd. "Let's just get this stupid thing out of the way… What's this about again?" Charles barely restrained himself from smacking himself in the forehead in frustration at the lack of attention span.

"Toki," Pickles piped up.

"Oh, yeah…" Nathan suddenly stood up to address the crowd. "What the f(guitar rift) do you people want to know?"

The crowd was dead silent, blinking owlishly at the great hulking figure of the lead singer at his full height. It was several minutes before a brave female reporter stood up. "Mister Explosion, we are here to find out the nature of your relationship with your band manager, Charles Foster Ofdensen."

"Dude, your middle name is 'Foster'?" Pickles exclaimed. "That sucks and I thought my middle name was bad."

Skwisgaar suddenly became very interested. "What ams it?"

"Dude, I ain't sayin'."

"Sir, your relationship?" the reporter reminded Nathan.

"Uhhh… we're friends."

"Then why would you adopt a child together?" came the drawl of an older southern reporter who was gazing between Charles and Nathan with suspicion and distaste.

"Because," came the simple answer.

"That is not an explanation, Mr. Explosion," came a bark from the very back of the crowd.

"Why the hell nat?" Pickles asked. "If Nathan and Charles see a kid and want to give it a home, that should be enough for you people."

"Yeah, you peoples am too ins theirs busy-eye-ness," Skwisgaar seconded. "What Nathans and the managers do in bedrooms ams only their concern." Why, oh, why couldn't the Swede just keep his big-lipped mouth shut?

"Mr. Skwigelf, is it true that the child the two have adopted is biologically yours?" came the question from the same coward in the back.

"Where ams yous gettings that ideas?" Skwisgaar demanded, casting a side look at Toki. "The kid has no resemblances to mes. He looks more like managers with long, lighter hair and blue eyes."

"Hey, you're right, he kinda does," Nathan voiced. Charles shuddered as the tiny gears in the singer's head suddenly began moving. "Didn't you used to live in the area where we found him? Could he really be your kid?"

"No," Charles answered. "That would be impossible."

"So you didn't have sex at all in Oslo? Dude, no wonder you left."

Charles didn't answer Pickles' question so he would not have to lie to the boys, preferring to change the topic before the truth about his sexuality was revealed. "Next question?"

"Have you ever had sex?" Nathan asked.

Charles fixed Nathan with a glare. "I meant if there were any more questions for you."

"Dude, are you a virgin?"

Charles clearly saw there was no way out of his boys questioning. "No, Pickles, I am not a virgin; I lost my virginity at eighteen. I did have sex in Oslo when I lived there, however there were condoms involved. May we move on?"

"Pfft, condom. I always breaks thems when I cums."

"Thank you for that image, Skwisgaar. Can we move on now?"

"You ams so sures you nots Toki's reals Papa?"

"Yes, Skwisgaar. There would be no physical way for the person I had sex with to conceive a child."

"Mr. Ofdensen, are you gay?" came the question from beside the first female reporter.

Charles attempted to masterfully evade the question, "I am not in a sexual or romantic relationship with any band member." He was unprepared for the rare moment of deduction in Nathan's head.

"Oh man, you're actually gay."

Charles did not deny it, simply pretended to ignore Nathan's statement and inquired, "Any other questions?" He ignored the stares of the boys at his head. If he did not deny or confirm it, perhaps the issue would go away.

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

The crowd was silent for several minutes, trying to process the intensive questioning in their minds. There was no clear answer. Then there were more general questions regarding Toki such as how old he was and if he had any health problems. Several female reports gushed that he was adorable and one offered the sleeping boy a teddy bear. Pickles took it and would later sew a demon tail on it to make it more 'metal'. Toki, of course, adored the new toy.

The papers would later say Charles had made no comment on his sexuality other than he was no sleeping with his band. There were a few jokes on comedy talk shows about what he and Nathan would have looked like in bed and how he probably wouldn't have been able to sit down at the conference if they were having sex. Charles occasionally got a few threatening letters from people who thought homosexuality was a sin, but he ignored them. Despite Skwisgaar's assumption that Toki was his biological child, Charles never took a DNA test.

The next two years were fairly uneventful; the only unusual occurrence was the alarming amount of death at concerts as Dethklok's popularity continued to climb at an alarming rate. Toki's English vocabulary had grown in outstanding leaps and he began to gradually grow more confident and talked more but he still remained the band's baby/ pet.

Charles never noticed the tension beginning to build between Magnus and Pickles until one concert when the band was attacked and Magnus took a knife to his left eye for the redhead. Charles hired more security and bodyguards that became known as klokateers but Magnus began to develop control issues. The rhythm guitarist soon had to have his hand in everything and every song. Charles recognized the actions as that of a man terrified of another attack happening and tried to get him to seek counseling. Hammersmith refused and, months later, was thrown out of the band.

Toki cried for weeks at the loss of his silent friend as the band searched for a new guitarist. After three disappointments, the band later discovered they already had the perfect replacement in Toki when they found him in the studio playing Hammersmith's lines on one of his old guitars.

To be continued…

PLEASE REVIEW. please comment. PlEaSe ReView. 

Thank you for your reviews:

ScreamingInsanity: Yes, I love little Toki. He's just too cute!

Bloodpocky: I hope my muse keeps inspiring me with this one. They're still silent on my other story.

YvetteD: How did you like Papa Charles in this chapter?


	5. Chapter 4

Warning: Spoilers for _Renovationklok_, slash, and mpreg, kinda character death.

Chapter 4

Mordhaus was silent in a way that didn't usually occur until five in the morning. There was no scuffling of thick klokateer boots on stone hallways, no laughter, no firecrackers, no jumping on furniture; the television and arcade games were not even on in the main room.

Toki ignored the soft knock on his bedroom door, knowing who it was and what they wanted already; the guitarist simply stared at the ceiling of his bedroom while fingering the engraving on his amber pendant. Although he'd stolen it from someone who used to beat him every day, the pendant always made him feel safe and loved. He really needed its warmth right now when he felt so cold inside.

There was soft murmuring outside the thick wooden door, then a raised voice barely muffled by the solid oak. Skwisgaar was calling Toki a crybaby. That was fine; he didn't care right now. He turned on his side and burrowed into the gray comforter, his eyes lighting on an unopened model kit on his desk. Before he realized it, his vision was burling and his breath was choked by a stuffy nose.

"Nots fair," Toki murmured to everyone and no one. "Ams just nots fair." Less than a week ago, Papa had bought him the model kit of a castle and had said they were going to build it together that weekend, just the two of them. Toki had been so excited, having not spent much time with Papa Charles since he took Uncle Magnus' spot in the band. Toki missed being able to do something with one of his makeshift family without worrying about if the activity would reflect well on the band or not. Papa had always kept his promises before, but it seemed he wouldn't this time.

Toki curled deeper into the covers as the door creaked open and soft boots clicked across the room until the bed sagged next to him. "Toki?" a soft, choked voice whispered before a hand gently reached up to touch his shoulder. "Come on, Dude. We have ta get you dressed."

"I's not goings, Pickle." Toki shrugged the hand off and scooted a little further away.

"Come on, Toki. Ya have ta go. Ofdensen wanted you ta be the one ta light the pyre."

"I don't wants to light Papa on fires."

"Toki…"

"No. Just leaves me alones, Pickle." He tried to move further back as Uncle Pickles reached for him again but he ran into the wall.

Pickles sighed and rose off the bed. "Nat'an, a little help?"

Almost immediately there was the sound of heavy boots coming fast towards the bed and large hand ripped Toki from his cocoon of safety. Toki simply went limp, not up to fighting. Like a doll, he was swiftly dressed in one of his papa's old suits, his face gently cleaned by a paper towel and his hair combed by his dad and honorary uncle. Toki almost protested the amber pendant being unclasped from his neck, but he didn't have the energy to move or speak. If he did either, he would dissolve into tears again and the world was watching. It was time to slip the now familiar and comfortable mask of apathy over his face.

As though he were a child again, his dad took Toki into his arms and carried him to the front gate before setting him down. A quick tie straightening and discreet handing out of black cloth hankies later, Daddy Nathan pushed open the front doors and led the group to the large altar on the fire scorched metal lawn. There was a mob of flashes and cameras trained on them as they made their journey to the stone steps.

Toki caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw the face of someone he hadn't seen in years. He was tempted to run to the tall, bearded man in black and be swallowed in the long arms and firm chest but the gentle tug and warning look from Uncle Pickles made him simply lower his gaze and keep walking.

Toki had never been to a funeral before. When the guitarist was a child, he vaguely remembered someone in the village dying of old age and the Reverend Wartooth chasing him away with an iron poker when he tried to join the procession through the village. So, Toki's knowledge of funerals only came from brief glimpses of it in television shows before Daddy or Papa would change the channel to something educational for him as if he didn't see people brutally killed almost every time Dethklok played nowadays. But, Toki hadn't expected to actually be able to see his papa.

His papa was laid out on his back dressed in his favorite suit, his arms folded over his chest. There were no cuts or bruises and if one hand had been behind his head or a book between his hands, Toki would have thought he looked like he was just taking a nap on the couch. Hesitantly he approached the body of his papa on the altar and placed a hand over his. It almost felt warm. "Papa?" Toki called out to the body, willing it to move, to speak, to draw him down to join him for a nap.

The band all gathered around the body to say their goodbyes. Skwisgaar presented it with a white rose; Murderface gave him an old guitar pick; Pickles gave him pen and paper; Nathan gave him an old pocket-watch that Toki had never seen before. Toki was the last one to present his parting gift- his old straw clown doll so Papa wouldn't be lonely or forget him in the afterlife.

"Are… are you sure, Dude?" Uncle Pickles asked.

"Papa need hims more than mes," Toki simply replied.

Daddy Nathan shook his head no when Toki tried to move the hands so they could rest over his doll better and motioned to Pickles to lead Toki to the side. Toki went with him as far as the first altar step and refused to budge. Not wanting to make a scene, Uncle Pickles left him alone. Then Nathan bent over the still figure. At this angle, no one in the crowd could see what he was doing but the two klokateers on either side of the altar and Toki, who was still gazing at the body from the first altar step. He was whispering something to papa's body; then he leaned in further and lightly kissed papa's still lips before moving to join the others at the bottom of the stairs.

Then, it was the crowd's turn. Business partners, former college friends, fans, and reporters each made their trek up the small flight and bid their goodbyes and gave their condolences to Toki on their way down. Uncle Magnus was the last person up and Toki saw Pickles instantly stiffen when he neared the body. "I'm sorry, Charles," was all the words the former guitarist said in the deep, croaky voice that used to teach Toki the alphabet. Then, he made his way down; placing a hand on Toki's shaking shoulders as he met him on the final step before sliding something into his hand and continuing on his way. Toki looked down to see it was an address scrawled in elegant letters and numbers with the message: If you need me, this is where you will find me.

"Douche bag," Pickles murmured as he gave the retreating back a glare that could melt a glacier. Toki to this day still did not know what got Uncle Magnus kicked out of the band.

"It's time, Toki," Daddy Nathan hissed as he handed Toki a lit torch. With wobbly knees and shaky hands, Toki accepted the torch from his adopted father and made his way to his other parent. He touched the torch to the straw surrounding the gold slab without a word and then handed it to the nearest klokateer. He heard the sound of grinding gears as the slab was lowered into the altar as he made his way down the steps.

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

The next few days were solemn as well. No one really talked about the empty chair at the head of the table; no one talked about new song possibilities; no one asked why Nathan was suddenly sleeping on the couch in the living room every night or ignoring Toki; no one really said much of anything. So, naturally Toki was the first to break the silence. "Where do you thinks Papa go?" Toki innocently asked one morning as Pickle poured himself and Toki a bowl of cereal.

"Huh?" Pickles asked, just barely catching the cereal box before it splattered on the table.

"I asks where do you thinks Papa go," Toki repeated.

"Toki," Pickles replied, casting a look at Nathan, who was stiff and muscles tense, "This isn't the time."

"What's you mean? I just want to know if I will see Papa again."

There was the sharp scrape of a chair against stone before Nathan stomped away, slamming the door behind him. A few seconds later, a ruffled Skwisgaar appeared in the doorway. "What ams goings on?" the blonde asked as he combed his hair back into place with his fingers.

Pickles sighed, "Just stick clear of Nathan for a while, he's in a mood."

"What happens?"

"Toki asked where Charles was."

"In graves," Skwisgaar replied, blinking owlishly at Toki, "You knows this. You lights the fires, remembers?" Pickles knew by the look Skwisgaar was giving him and the glances he was shooting at Toki, he was afraid he was losing it. Pickles didn't blame him for the assumption, the kid was very fragile right now and both he and Nathan were at a breaking point.

"I don't mean body, I mean ghost."

"Ghost?"

"I think he's talkin' about his soul," Pickles translated. After almost seven years, he was very adept at translating for the two Scandinavians, even between themselves.

"Oh," Skwisgaar said quietly, his shoulders relaxing in a mix of relief and grief. "Charlie dies in battle. Like any good Vikings, he go to Valhalla, Toki."

"Valhalla?" Toki repeated. "What ams that?"

"You serious?"

"Yep. What ams Valhalla?"

Skwisgaar sighed and joined Toki at the table, taking Pickles' bowl of cereal without asking and pouring some lactose-free milk into it. "It ams the hall of warriors who die fightings. Beautiful womens takes souls there to Odins and Thor. Soul fights all day, feasts all nights, and f(guitar rift) prettys womens and mens. Charlie will likes it theres; he can gets strong man or pretty men to takes to beds."

"Will I go to Valhalla?"

"Onlys if you dies in battles," Skwisgaar said in between munching on cereal as Pickles poured another bowl and stole some of Skwisgaar's special milk as pay back.

"I never sees Papa again," Toki stated as he pushed the cereal bowl away from him. "I not hungrys no more." He then got up and left the room.

Pickles turned angry eyes on the Swede. "What did you do that for?"

"He might have been thinkings of joining Papa," was all the Swede said before silently going back to his cereal. Pickles bowed to that logic and joined him in the silence.

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Weeks turned into months and though the emptiness in Mordhaus remained, slowly the band began dealing with their grief in different ways and healing. Nathan began to talk more and more, but he refused to pick up random women as he had in the past for reasons unknown to the band. Skwisgaar had begun to hang out more and more with the younger guitarist and drew him a little out of his shell, writing new songs with the brunette at his side every day in the recording studio. Pickles lost himself in booze and drugs more than he had since he joined the band. It was not unusual to see him passed out somewhere around the house. As for Murderface, he kept clear of his band mates and hung out with the producer at strip clubs.

As Mordhaus and Dethklok remained inactive, the world outside began to crumble. For the first time in eighty years, the stock market was hit hard. The United States economy plummeted and was shortly followed by the world's. Of course the only ones aware of this fact in Mordhaus were Nathan, Toki, and Knubbler. When Dethklok was asked to appear on a talk show regarding their own finances during the hard times, Toki was taken to the side by Nathan as the band boarded their helicopter.

"Look, uh… Toki," Daddy Nathan began, awkwardly shifting his feet as he tried to search for the right words to say, "The others and I have…uh… decided how to handle the…uh… finances of the band, so you don't have to talk with the… uh… smart guy."

Toki was instantly hurt. He had thought he'd been taken to the side so his dad could apologize for ignoring him since his papa died. He knew Dad missed Papa, so he had forgiven him. Now, Toki learned he was being brushed aside. "What… What do you means?" Toki asked, denial forcing him to make his dad repeat it just in case he had heard it wrong. When his family had first taken him in, they had started to train Toki in everything a manager and financial advisor needed to know. Now he was useless? Were they going to replace him like the replaced Uncle Magnus?

"You're a kid, Toki. You don't have to worry about money," Nathan summarized as Pickles called out for him to hurry up. "Uh… Toki, stay here I guess."

"You comings, Nathans?" came Skwisgaar's call.

Toki remained frozen as his adoptive parent walked into the helicopter, leaving him in the large metal castle with only the klokateers who he was not allowed to have any real connection with or they would be fired. He waited for the copter to become only a tiny dot in the sky before he fell to his knees and broke down for the first time in months.

Toki cried until he had no more tears left in him and all that was coming out was dry coughing. Papa was gone. Dad ignored him. Dethklok thought he was useless. He could practically hear Reverend Wartooth's voice in his head mocking him about how useless he was. What was he going to do? Where was he to go?

Uncle Magnus.

Uncle Magnus had given him a piece of paper at the funeral with his contact information and offered him a place to stay. Uncle Magnus always seemed to understand him the most.

Before he knew it, Toki found himself marching down the halls to his room and throwing all his possessions in one of Papa's old suitcases. In a fury of motion, Deddy-bear, his medication, his books, his clothes, and the last model he had done with Papa was fit into the black bag. He was leaving the castle model kit and Magnus's old guitar behind. They were relics of an old life that he would want to forget as soon as possible.

"My lord, what are you doing?" A klokateer asked from his doorway, startling Toki as he reached up for some stationary on a high shelf to write a note to his former family.

"Ams none of your busy-eye-ness," Toki said with a glare at the hooded figure as he pulled down a sheet of paper and a pen. Something hit him on his head and landed on his desk. His necklace. He'd forgotten about that necklace.

Toki's breath hitched as he ran his long index finger along the now worn engraving on the amber pendant. This was a relic too. He still wasn't sure why he had taken it or why he had worn it for years and never taken it off. Why had he kept something he'd stolen from such a mean man as the reverend? He grasped the stone in his hand and squeezed all his anger out, surprised when he began to hear the sound of cracking. He opened his hand to see a long crack had ripped through the rune on the stone. Perhaps he should leave this behind too.

"My lord? Are you injured?" Asked the klokateer who still had not vanished after Toki had ordered him away.

"I said leaves!" Toki screamed at him.

The klokateer continued to ignore him. "But, my lord, where are you going? Your father will not be pleased if you are gone by the time he and the others get home."

"My father am deads. Nathans wonts notice," Toki promised. He then scribbled a quick note of three lines and a signature to the band with one hand as he held the pendant with the other. 'I'm sorry. Gone to Uncle Magnus. Goodbye.- Toki Ofdensen' He placed the note on his pillow. "Ifs they notice, I wrote note."

Then ignoring any further protest from the klokateer, he strode past him out of the room and walked to the front gate, grabbing a parachute off the wall and strapped it to his back. Then he walked across the metal lawn to say goodbye for what he thought was the last time and up to the stone altar where he had buried his papa's remains. "I's sorrys, Papa. I so sorrys, but I cants stay heres I gots to go. Goodbye."

On impulse, he threw the pendant at the altar and heard another cracking sound. Real amber did not break that easily, so the pendant was probably only amber colored after all. All this time, Toki thought he had stolen something valuable when he had really just stolen some cheap trinket. It figures.

With a hallow chuckle, Toki approached the edge of the house, took a deep breath and jumped just as a figure appeared as if by magic on the altar.

To be continued…

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Please review!

Thank you bloodpocky for all your reviews. Sorry this chapter was not funny at all but I still hope you like it.

FOR ILLUSTRATIONS SEE PROFILE


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first thing Loki was aware of was the sound of invisible water in his ears and the heaviness of his head. The second thing he became aware of was the position he was lying in. He was on some sort of steps and his shoulders were angled downwards, almost mocking the gravity that was slowly pulling him down as his eyes were focused on a grey stormy sky. The air was also slightly thin here and Loki wondered if he was on top of a mountain. Carefully, he began to sit up, howling in pain when his stomach was moved. He looked down and saw a small bead of blood escape some very sloppy stitches.

Loki's mind and body screaming in horror as he recalled exactly how those stitches had gotten there. He didn't know how his kidnappers found out what he was, but the next thing he'd known Loki found himself in a frozen cave, cold iron wrapping around his legs and arms as two sharp-boned and hollowed eyed figures in black held him down, opened his life-filled stomach, and pulled a small thing that was mewling like a kitten from his warmth and handed it to the scantily dressed village whore. He remembered struggling with everything he had in him to break his iron prison as the man in black just kept chanting and painting the rune of cosmic law on his flesh. His baby… what had those people done with his baby? He had to get to his baby.

Loki pulled on his magic to heal the split muscle and flesh quickly as he pulled himself into a sitting position against some sort of golden slab with an engraving that pushed into his now sensitive flesh. Curious, Loki turned his head and was able to make out some writing. When he had healed enough, Loki pulled back from his support expecting to see a multitude of binding runes. He didn't expect to encounter a name that he had screamed for in the past months and some very disturbing dates: Charles Foster Ofdensen 1966- 2009.

Why was he laying on the tomb of his husband? Was this in his imagination, a warning from Odin, or some evil trick? No, Loki was a creature of tricks. This was no trick; no false magic lingered around the area just sadness. He ran a shaking hand over the letters and barely restrained himself from crying. 2009. When he'd been captured it had been December 1988. Assuming 2009 was the date, his baby, if it was alive, would be about twenty years old now. He didn't even know if it was a girl or boy. Regardless, he had to find them.

His fingers lazily trace the date on the gold slab. "I… I'm sorry, Charles, but I'll have to wait until later to mourn you. Right now, I have to find our child. I have to make sure they're safe."

A roar of thunder cracked over his head and Loki looked up into the angry sky. There was a shift in the air, a heaviness that was more than the humidity. The bifrost was opening; his brother was coming, late as always to save Loki from danger.

Of course, the wielder of Mjolnir would make the loudest and boldest entrance and land hard enough to make a dent on the strange metal surface. There was a loud thud on metal before there was an exclamation. "Brother!" shouted the blonde in joy before running up the steps in joy. "I finally found you!"

"Thor, don't…" It was too late; Thor had taken the stairs two at a time and captured the smaller man in a fierce hug that made Loki cry out in pain.

"Oh, I'm sorry brother. Did I hurt you?" Thor asked as he instantly released the tense figure and began searching him for the source of his pain with all too familiar hands.

"Thor!" Loki growled, slapping the hands away from his body before they could move to check lower than the rags he wore on his legs.

"But, you're injured…" Thor whined like a puppy denied affection, his golden brown eyes on his brother's stitched and healing belly. Loki sighed when he saw the gears suddenly moving in his brother's head. "How? Who would dare harm my brother?"

"That is a story for another time, Thor," Loki replied, gently using the side of his husband's tomb to help him stand. "Why are you here?" Loki bit out as he leaned against the plaque for support.

"Father and I have been looking for you for almost two earth decades now. He was worried about you; he said you were in pain. We tried to trace your magic but the way was blocked and even Heimdal could not see you." One large hand came up to clasp Loki on the shoulder. "I thought you were dead until I heard your magic calling for me." Golden eyes suddenly moved off his brother and came to rest on the shadowy structure behind them. "What kind of building have these Midgardians fashioned?"

Loki almost shook his head at his brother's pitiful attention-span; he turned and saw the structure that had captured Thor's attention. How could Loki have missed that? It was an impressive fortress built of dark stone and red artificial light with a design to resemble something similar to the ships Loki and Thor once sailed on as children when they were on their tour of the realms. A fortress designed to move and intimidate, metal ground, his husband's elaborate tomb… what had happened in those twenty years?

Before he could stop him, his brother was walking to the stone keep with all the arrogance of a king expecting the gates to open and follow his command. "Thor!" he called, rolling his eyes when he saw there was to be no stopping the blond from his curiosity. With weak, shaky legs, he tried to catch up with his brother's long strides only to see him disappear into the fortress and the sounds of moans and yelps.

As Loki neared the gate, he saw the men in strange his brother had put down lying in pain. Loki was too weak still to cast a memory spell but a few sleeping spell could work just as well. However, it appeared that the fortress was equipped with a small army; after the hundredth victim to his brother's brawn, he lost count and had depleted his magical resources.

"Brother, come look at this sorcery!" Thor called out from nearby. Loki followed the direction of his bumbling brother's voice and found the room that so fascinated his brother. Neon arcade lights, two large and somehow flat televisions, a buffet table next to a large Jacuzzi. "I must meet the king of such a marvelous castle!"

"I do not think he will be kind to a man who knocked his army out," Loki reminded delicately before he was suddenly pulled to a nearby couch with empty cans of cheap beer littered around its base and some sort of dusting of white powder. He immediately reached out to it felt the strong pulse of a powerful protection charm and gasped. The magic was so similar to Loki's own. Could it have been his child seeking to protect whoever was trying to compete with an Asgardian warrior's prowess in drinking games?

There was a similar spell on a nearby hairbrush that held long pale blond strands and a pair of glasses lying forgotten on a shelf with a picture that Loki immediately snatched up. A smirking image of Charles stared back at him, his hair slightly thinner and slicked back, his glasses slightly thicker with the same look as the ones on the shelf, and the wrinkles in his forehead making his ex look slightly more distinguished. He was surrounded by five other men of various heights and mass. However, it was the boy whose shoulder Charles clasped that drew Loki's attention. He had Charles' chin and mouth with Loki's cheekbones, eye shape and nose. The coloring was strange but it was not unheard of for a child to inherit a fairer complexion than their parents.

A son; Loki had a son.

"Hey, brother, I don't think the king is home."

Loki traced the outline of the child's face with a finger and followed a curve down until a flash of amber light stood out. Loki squinted and was able to make out the same rune that had been on his stomach on the surface of the child's stone necklace.

"Brother, what are you looking at?" Thor called as he suddenly appeared over Loki's shoulder.

Loki quickly calculated his response, weighing what option would ensure his child's safety the best. He didn't want what happened to him to happen to his child. Yet, Odin had made it clear that he did not like the fact that Loki preferred men in his bed and that Loki was often 'the sword's casing' as he put it. How would he react to obvious proof that Loki had placed himself under a Midgardian? But surely Odin would not harm his grandchild? Loki turned the saddest, most desperate face he had on his blond brother. If Loki played his cards right, not only would Thor ensure his child's safety but Loki would not even have to get his hands dirty for revenge. "You love me, don't you, brother?"

"Yes, Loki," Thor confirmed, a big smile on his face as he trapped the younger, smaller man in his arms.

"I need your help, Thor." Loki guided one of the large hands over his empty womb. "I need you to help me find my child Thor."

Loki did not anticipate Thor laughing at the very suggestion and patting the still sensitive scar in humor. "Brother, we were bathed together as children. I would have noticed if you had any different parts."

Loki sighed. "My female organs are internal." At Thor's blank stare, he amended, "They are inside my gut."

"But brother, Asgardian males do not carry children."

"Yes but hermaphrodites in other species do," Loki admitted his eyes down cast as he tried to look as pitiful and weak as possible to appear as the 'person' in distress to his brother's heroic nature.

"What are you…" Thor's voice trailed off as he took a close eye at Loki. There was a space of several seconds before Thor quietly commented, "You've never looked like Mother or Father."

"I'm still your brother, Thor," Loki reminded the blond as he wrapped his arms around Thor before Thor could draw back. "And right now, I need your help." There was a commotion in the hallway and Loki realized some of the army in the strange uniforms were coming around. He ripped the frame open and pocketed the picture before he grabbed Thor's large hand and pulled him to the next room and a corner where the barrier between realms was threatening to rip from his child's magic. "Come; we should begin our search immediately."

With the slightest nudge, the barrier was opened and the two ancient beings were safe from the Midgardians that poured into the room with the latest weapon at the ready.

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

"Well, I think that went well," Pickles commented as the four exited the talk show's backstage and walked a block to the waiting limo.

"Yeah, we'll make kick-asch financial people, that'sch fur schure," Murderface agreed as he stretched and clasped his hands behind his head in pride.

"Can yous puts your arms downs? Pitts smell like a rotten corpse what has beens sprayed bys the skunks," Skwisgaar complained as he clasped a fine-boned hand over his nose and moved as far away from Murderface as possible.

"Yeah, Murderface, when was the last time that you took a bath?" Nathan asked as he tried to fan the stench away from him with a large paw.

"Oh, come on you guysch. We're all men here."

"Yeah, we ams but we dos nots smells like the poops factorys," Skwisgaar wheezed around the smell.

A brilliant idea came over Pickles when he saw a middle aged woman in a suit walk by with a cylinder keychain holding her nose. "Hey ma'am, can we barrow your pep-purr spray?"

The woman broke it off her keychain and hurried away from them as fast as possible.

"T'anks!" Pickles called after her and then sprayed a little bit of the container under Murderface's arms before the bassist could protest.

"Ouch, motherf(guitar rift)er! That hurts like a schon-of-a-b(guitar rift)ch." Murderface screamed as he clawed at the now red and sensitive skin with dirty fingernails.

"First thing we do when we get home is lock you in the bathroom," Nathan commented as he apathetically watched the bassist cut himself in an attempt to relieve the burning.

"I thinks you needs to sprays hims agains, Pickle," Skwisgaar taunted just as a klokateer came running towards them.

"My lords, there has been a disturbance at Mordhaus."

"Dis…dis… dis…" Nathan kept repeating as he mulled over what the word meant.

"Somethin' 'appened," Pickles translated before turning back to the klokateer with a shrug. "So, w'at 'appened?"

"Two men broke into the compound, Sire, and knocked out a recorded hundred and eight klokateers before making their way into the living area. It is unclear what their purpose was or how they managed to get onto Mordhaus property and leave without anyone stopping them."

"How, uh, could something like that happen?" Nathan inquired.

"Yeah dude, how could someone do t'at?"

"We do not know yet, but the security team is currently reviewing the surveillance footage to find out."

"Schurveillance footach?" Murderface whispered. "We have camerasch? They're not in my bedroom right? I don't like the idea of schome schick guy watchin' me asch I jack off!"

"I's sure the guy doesn'ts wants to sees it eithers." Skwisgaar added.

"F(guitar rift) you, Schkwisgaar. You're juscht jealousch of my hot naked body."

"Ew."

"My lords, there's more." The klokateer said, shifting nervously from foot to foot, a move that quickly captured Pickles' attention. "Master Toki has gone missing."

"W'at?" Pickles asked, quietly hoping he had heard the Klokateer wrong.

"WHAT!" Nathan thundered when the situation finally registered in his head. He seized the innocent messenger by the collar of his uniform with one hand and shook him, "You are paid to protect him!"

"It is unclear at this time if the two men had anything to do with his disappearance but our efforts to locate Master Toki have proven unsuccessful. His deth-phone was left behind in his room but a lot of his personal items are missing. We believe he ran away rather than was kidnapped."

"Ran away?" Pickles repeated. "Why would 'e do t'at?"

"Because his Papa ams deads and his Daddys ignores hims. I tolds yous we should haves takens 'ims withs us todays," Skwisgaar commented angrily and turned on Nathan. "You knews he was sads. If he ams in ditch it ams your faults."

"Cume ahn," Pickles ordered, his accent thicker in his fear as he attempted to divert the fight before it even began. He pulled Nathan by the hand towards the limo. "We have ta get home and find out w'ats goin' on."

"I calls the pets stores, the malls, and the dry cleaners to sees if Tokis ams theres." Skwisgaar said as he whipped out the deth-phone from the chain on his hip and climbed into the limo.

"There'sch no schircusch in town, right?"

"No, Tokis woulda drags us tos it."

"Anyone 'ave Dr. Rockso's phone number?"

"I do," Nathan said as he whipped out his own phone and climbed in the car. All that resulted in was a very wasted answer of 'Hello Mr. Explosion; can Toki come out to play? I do cocaine!'Nathan's veins bulged with suppressed anger at the sound of Leonard's voice. At least they knew Toki wasn't with him. Nathan hung up without answering the clown's question. "When we find him, I'm locking him in his room for a week."

"Harsch."

"Hello, ams this Northeast Malls? Do you haves tall Norwegian boys in stores? Hello? They hangs ups on me!"

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Toki sighed as he walked along the road, his long hair was trapped in a baseball cap with a kitten on the front to hide his identity and his knapsack clutched like a life line in his arms. Walking to Uncle Magnus's home had seemed like a pretty good idea at the time, but two hours in and only eight miles out of a hundred and twenty down, Toki wanted to just collapse. He gave into the feeling a few steps later just as a light blue car pulled over to the side of the road and a man with bright blond hair, tight jeans, and a large light blue tunic opened up the passenger side of the car. He could just barely make out the driver's silhouette. "Hey, are you all right Honey?"

Toki looked around, trying to spot who the man in the car was talking to and realized he was talking to him. "Oh, I okays. I's goings to my Uncle's house."

"Do you need a lift?"

Toki almost said no, but his feet would be bleeding by the time he got to Uncle Magnus's place otherwise, "Okays." He climbed into the back of the car. Once inside, he saw the driver was a good looking late-thirties black man with light hazel eyes and hair twisted in dreads that were even longer than Pickles down his back. He was dressed in jeans and a simple white tank that contrasted with his dark charcoal skin and set off his full dark rose lips.

"Hullo, I's Toki."

"Hello, Toki. I'm John and this is Brad," the driver acknowledged. "So where does your Uncle live?" John asked as he began to pull back onto the road.

"Chicago."

The blond, Brad, turned back in the passenger seat, brown eyes wide in surprise as he leveled Toki with a look. "You were going to walk there? Do you realize how far away that is from here?"

"About one hundred and twelves mile," Toki confirmed.

"Sorry, Buddy, but we're not goin' that far," the driver commented.

"That ams fine, I go as far as possible and rest feets. I walks from village to Oslo when I fourteen. Ams abouts same."

"Oslo? That sounds familiar. Is it in the US?" Brad asked, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"Nos. I from Norways."

"So what are you doing here in the States?" the driver asked. "Toki, no one illegally smuggled you here as… somethin' right?"

Toki shook his head. "Nos, I's found by Papa and Dad on streets of Oslo. They adopts mes, buts Papa ams dead and Dad don't wants mes anymore. I useless nows."

Toki watched Brad shoot John a look and John responded by grabbing Brad's hand as he used his left to steer the car.

"Toki, how old are you? Besides that weird mustache, you look really young."

"Twentys, we thinks. I donts really has births certificates in Norways before Uncle Magnus sees mes and takes mes to Papa. Oh looks, it ams a cow! I never sees American cows."

"Did your Dad kick you out of the house?" John pressed, steering the conversation back to the runaway's past.

"Nos, but he don't wants mes there anymores. He donts talks to mes, he just sits and watches televisions when I talks to hims. Then he tells mes thats I donts needs to worry and that I shouldn't dos anythings."

The two in the front clenched their hands tighter. "Toki, it just sounds like your Dad is grieving. Does he know you're going to your Uncle's?"

"I leaves notes in my rooms."

The two men shot each other another look before John pulled a sharp U-turn. "Toki, we're taking you home."

"Whats? Whys?"

"Because it sounds like you and your Dad need to talk. If we ever adopted a kid and he ran, I'd want someone to do the same."

"But he don'ts wants me no mores!"

"He does Toki. If he didn't, he could have legally just kicked you out on the streets; you're old enough to fend for yourself. Now where do you live?"

Toki was silent for several seconds before he said quietly, "Mordhaus."

"Mordhaus, isn't that… wait you're Toki Ofdensen!" Brad said with a large grin before playfully punching the driver. "I told ya Nathan and Charles were together."

"Yes, dear," John simply replied with a smile.

To Be Continued….

_Please review!_

_A/N:_ OKAY I GIVE... WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS CHAPTER?

Thank you for your reviews:

Bloodpocky- Charles is too awesome to die and Nathan still needs to confess his feelings. Magnus is always nice to Toki in this fic, he just flipped on the band because of control issues.

Jadefox33445- Don't worry Mama's gonna come for his baby.

Lukando- I love their voices. I have since the first episode and I hope I stay true to the characters even if I am making them in various stages in the closet.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The rip in the dimensions could have gone to multiple worlds or planes of existence, but the hole surprisingly led Loki and Thor to the gardens outside of Asgard's great palace. Two earth decades of Loki's absence had not changed Frigga's green thumb. The bell flowers were in full bloom, the tulips were straight and perfectly egg shaped, the grass was a vibrant green with no impressions of the heavy boots of warriors who romp through it every day, and everywhere there were butterflies. Guarded green eyes watched apathetically as one of the golden pollinators landed on his bare shoulder before flying away.

"Brother, we're back!" Thor announced excitedly before capturing Loki's hand and proceeding to drag him towards the side door of the palace. "Come, Mother and Father will want to see you right away."

"Wait, Thor," Loki ordered, trying to pull his smaller hand free from the gorilla mitt of his brother while being careful not to crumble the stolen picture in his other. "Perhaps, I should change first." He did not want anyone more than necessary to see him dressed in stained peasant drawstring pants and his brother's cloak.

"Nonsense, Loki," Thor replied, not even bothering to look at his brother as he tightened his grip. "Mother and Father will want to see you now."

"Please, Thor. I wish to preserve what dignity I still have before the court," Loki pleaded, pulling at his arm yet again. Of course, the protest was no use. Once Thor had an idea in his head, nothing could ever dissuade him of it. So Loki was dragged to the great hall looking like an escapee from a dungeon. Loki managed to keep his head high as the whispers and snickers washed to his ears while Thor led him past the Asgardian men dressed in well-treated training leather and Asgardian women dressed in their finest silks.

"Loki!" Frigga cried out in relief from the throne before running to gather the wayward prince tightly in her arms. Loki stiffened at the touch, remembering the last time his mother and he had spoken she had told him he was unnatural and he needed to learn to find comfort in women rather than men. He wondered if his time absent had given her a change of heart. Regardless, he hadn't forgiven her yet.

Odin was more graceful in his approach of his sons. He glided down the steps of the throne, his eye crinkled at the corner and his smile transforming his face into the largest smile Loki had ever seen directed at him since he was a child. With one hand, Odin reached out and clasped Loki's right shoulder and squeezed it in comfort as the one grey-blue eye took him in. Loki lowered his eyes, fearful of the disgust he would see in Odin's eye.

"Come, my son, let's get you cleaned up," Odin finally said, his voice gruff with anger and something else Loki could not identify. Whether these emotions were directed towards him, Loki did not know but he did not dare raise his eyes as Odin led him by the shoulder to the bath house. The murmuring around Loki intensified. He heard male voices saying he was pitiful and females whispering rumors of what had happened to him. "Hagar, attend," Odin commanded. Hagar was one of the servants who were most loyal to Odin and the one Loki knew would never tell family secrets. Loki knew this meant Odin wanted a conversation with him alone and he barely stopped himself from stiffening in fear. "Frigga, see to the court while I help our sons."

Loki could tell his mother was reluctant but she did not say anything against her husband. Frigga nodded slowly before putting on a tight smile and announcing, "We shall have a feast to celebrate the return of my youngest son." The people of the court cheered, happy to have any reason for a feast.

Ignoring the feelings of dread, Loki walked to the bath house where Hagar began to help him undress when it became apparent that it was still painful for Loki to bend at the waist while Odin stood off to the side with Thor. Loki made sure the prized picture was still in the folds of his brother's cloak as Hagar filled the tub with warm water.

Odin checked the hallway and sealed the door. "Loki, my son, what happened on Midgard?"

Loki was silent, pondering how to phrase his answer to both incite Odin to avenge him and to reclaim the boy. "It is not an easy tale, Father."

Finally, the tub was full and Hagar helped Loki into the water and began washing his back as the servant had when Loki was a little boy. Loki, for whatever reason, could not bring himself to protest the treatment.

Odin sighed. "Loki, when I felt you were in danger and I could do nothing, your choice in bed-partners ceased to matter." Oh, how Loki wished he could believe him.

Yet, before Loki could unleash his silver-tongue, he saw Thor's eyes widened with a sudden thought. "Brother, please tell me your child was not conceived against your will…" Oh, Thor, why did he always have to be so direct?

"Child?" Odin repeated, his voice heavy with too many emotions for Loki to decipher. "What child?" Hagar raised his eyebrows in astonishment but proceeded to wash Loki's front.

"I met someone on Earth, Father. We were together for a year before I 'persuaded' him into marrying me in the ancient ways. I conceived our child in our second year together." Turning and leveling his gaze at his brother, Loki announced, "It was not against my will."

"Your husband, was race was he from? How did he react to the news of the child's conception?"

"He was Midgardian and therefore was rather surprised by his sudden fatherhood." Leveling a look at his adopted father, Loki continued, "As was I."

"Was your husband the one who hid you from my sight?" Odin asked, his voice shaking in anger, not answering the unspoken question in Loki's voice.

"No. I left our home briefly to give him some time to come to terms with it. I didn't notice the Midgardians in a carriage until it was too late and there was iron slapped around my neck." Loki's hand briefly clasped his throat at the fresh memory. "I do not know how they found me, but these people, the Wartooths, dragged me from Oslo to their dying village. They knew my weaknesses and how to bind my limbs so I could not escape. How would they know something like that father?" The tone of Loki's voice was not accusing but confused and pitiful.

"I will find out, my son, and I will make them pay," Odin promised as he reached over to squeeze Loki's shoulder. The fact that Odin was offering to create a war on lesser being's on Loki's behalf, especially without persuasion by Thor, was huge. "Have they kept you prisoner all this time?"

"In a way. They kept me bound in a cave and only brought me out to drain my magic. Then when I gave birth, they found an impure stone to trap me in."

"Is your child alive?"

"I believe so," Loki said, looking up into Odin's visible eye before determining Odin's sincerity. Satisfied with the protectiveness he saw there, he pointed the folded cloak on the bench near the tub. "I have a photograph in Thor's cloak, a Midgardian type of visual record, of who I believe is my child."

Thor was the first to move and retrieve the precious photo from inside its hiding spot. "Is this not the painting you were looking at in the castle?"

"Yes. The man in the middle with the… device over his eyes is my husband, Charles."

"That mouse of a man? Not the blond on the far left or the large man with the long black hair? How is he supposed to stand at your side during battle?"

Loki almost laughed at Thor's question. "The Midgardians have laws and courts much like ours. Many of their most significant battles take place there and, believe me, Charles was quite capable of defending me in that area."

Odin held out his hand and Thor somewhat reluctantly handed the photo over. "The looks of the Midgardians have certainly changed." The blue-gray eye took in every detail of the photo as if committing it to memory. After a while he said, "The boy in front of your husband on looks a lot like you did at his age."

Loki nodded. "He also has Charles' chin and mouth. I don't know how he found our son after he was taken from me."

"Are you certain that this is your son?"

"Yes. He has my magical talent. I could sense it." Loki smiled as he remembered the familiar feel of the magic. "But now that, Charles is dead, I fear something will happen to my son." Loki admitted.

Odin smiled and squeezed Loki's shoulder again. "Well, then, we will bring your family home so I can make sure nothing happens again." Odin then turned to Thor and commanded, "Thor, go to Heimdal and ask for him to send you to Midgard to retrieve your nephew."

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

The sky over the light blue car began to darken quicker than Toki ever remembered seeing it the closer they got to Mordhaus. He shifted anxiously in his seat as that familiar feeling of a tingle spread in his gut, and suddenly the car was awash in glowing symbols. Something was coming. He just didn't know what.

"Strange storm," John commented as his light hazel eyes scanned the now vacant road.

"Maybes we shoulds pull overs," Toki advised with a shaky voice.

"Don't worry, kid," John said, continuing to scan the road for potential hazards. "I will if it gets too bad."

"I think the boy is right, John. This storm is approaching way too fast." Brad was now nervously fidgeting in the car, his knuckles of his right hand white on the handle above the door. There was a crack of thunder and the blond whimpered.

"It's okay, Baby," John said just as another flash of lightening streaked across the sky, then a cloud began to rapidly funnel down.

"Tornado!" Brad screamed as John pulled the car over into a ditch near a storm drain.

"Everyone out of the…" John began just as the tornado came streaking towards the car and caught it in its mighty grip. The symbols around the car began to glow a fire red.

Toki was paralyzed in fear as the three were thrown around for a space of several seconds before something began to emerge from the spinning chaos. Brad was too busy screaming in terror and John was too busy trying to hold Brad's flailing limbs in his to notice the mass coming towards them from the top of the tornado until it smacked into the side of the car on Toki's side and began to jiggle the handle. Even in the chaos, Toki was able to make out the figure of a large, muscular man trying to get to him; and until he saw the face, he held out hope that it was Daddy Nathan trying to rescue him.

As the mass got closer to the window, Toki's hope was dashed when he saw the figure had dirty blond hair and golden eyes with a long red cape like a superhero from one of his Papa's old comics. All sound in the car came to a halt. The golden brown eyes locked on Toki and the figure smiled until a branch hit the man's arm.

"Oh, my god, there's someone out there!" Brad finally yelped when the massive man was flung backwards by another object colliding with him.

"We can't do anything until the tornado sets us down, Baby," John reminded as he gripped Brad's hands to keep him from opening the door.

A second later, the tornado came to a halt and the car was set down so gently that they didn't even feel it. For several minutes, no one moved or spoke, almost as if they were fearful that the tornado was going to come back and carry them off again. Then, the sun began to emerge.

"Okay, I'm going to go out and check to see if I can find the man we saw," John finally said as the first ray of sun illuminate the hood of the car. However, before he could get out, the man found them, once again at Toki's door but this time wielding something that looked like it belonged to a blacksmith only with the strangest carvings.

"Nephew!" the man said with the large grin he had given him in the tornado. "I've come to take you home." A large hand nearly ripped the door off its hinges as he opened it and reached for Toki.

Toki was frozen, his mind blank and his limbs rigid as the large hand captured his wrist and dragged him out of the car. And suddenly, the sight of the large hammer wielding man clicked with something in his head. He'd seen a similar statue in an old building in Lillehammer while walking to Oslo. Thor.

"Come, your parent is waiting."

Papa. Skwisgaar was right. Papa Charles was in Valhalla waiting for him.

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Pickles lay on Toki's bed, a few bottles of whiskey and vodka cluttered around him and empty; their reflections illuminated the cold grey brown floor tiles with greens, reds, and browns. He hardly ever drank vodka, but he wanted his mind to stop functioning at the moment. He kept having images of all the horrors of the world he'd seen when he'd run away from his own parents. He had an image of frost blue eyes rolled back in death from overdose, long limbs mangled under a car or sticking out of the dirt from where someone had buried him, long brown hair being pulled by a rapist and matted with blood. Those images refused to go away no matter how much Pickles drank.

"Toki, where'd ya go?" Pickles asked the empty space as he shifted on the bed. Maybe if he did a little more acid… Just then he heard a crinkling sound underneath of him. He ignored it until it began pressing into his neck where he shifted again. "Wh…hic… what's dis?" Dazed green eyes blinked as his hand fumbled to retrieve the piece of paper. His vision was blurred so he could barely make out the words on the paper and even then he couldn't understand it.

"Pickle?" the blond tree asked in the doorway.

"Hey, tree, where's ya bran… hic… branches?"

"Getting drunks ams no ways to finds Tokis," the tree scolded.

Pickles simply hiccupped again. "I… hic… I found a thing…" He held up the note to the tree. "Tok… hic… has sum pretty writin'…"

The strange pale tree snatched the paper from his hand. Oops. That's right. Trees were made of paper. Or was that the other way around? Either way the tree wouldn't be happy with him. "Sa… sarry, tree."

The tree ignored him, trying to sound out the message. "I… I'ms… so… sorr… sorry. Ga…. Ga… ga… Ney… ta… Unkle Magnus… Toki…" The bark on the top moved strangely. "Ga-Nee ta Magnus… Tokis wents ta Magnus?"

At that revelation, Pickles sat up so fast he bumped his head against the tree's shoulder and cried out in pain five seconds later. "Mean tree."

"Pickle, dos you 'ave Magnus' number?"

"Hic."

"Pfft, you ams use… use… you 'aves no use nows." Pale twigs scrapped across Pickles' hips before swiping his phone and looking through it. Who would a tree call? "Hullo?" There was a pause. "No, nots Tokis ams Skwisgaar. Tokis not theres?" Another pause. "Well where ams you? Tokis no calls you to picks him up?" Pause. "No, I go looks for 'ims. You gives me a calls ifs you hears from 'ims." Another pause. "No… no… What's you expects?" Another pause. "Ams too lates for thats, Magnus. Moves on." Another pause. "No he does nat, but he ams on edge rights now. Does nots needs yous. Go'dbyes." The tree hung up the phone with a click.

"Ya kno', tree, I kinda miss Magnus. Un… Unly purson who'd tuck me in," Pickles admitted.

"Pfft, was probably doings it to haves excuse to feels you ups," the tree commented.

Pickles laughed at that. Silly tree. No one wanted him outside of being Dethklok's drummer. He'd long come to peace with that knowledge.

"My lords, there's been a disturbance on the ground below," said a shadow that suddenly came up from the wall.

"And how does that's concerns us?" asked the tree, clearly annoyed. But how could a tree be annoyed? So strange. Then again, a tree shouldn't be able to read either.

"There are reports that a man matching Master Toki's description was involved."

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Toki couldn't help smiling as he was led by the wrist through Valhalla. Instead of merely a castle, gardens, and battleground it was a massive golden city with blond and redheaded people with some brunettes running in fine silks or golden armor through the dirt streets or on horses that were taller than even the God Thor. Toki couldn't have felt more out of place in an old faded shirt and cotton pants and kitten baseball cap.

Toki realized he probably looked like a homeless person compared to them. He hoped Papa Charles wasn't embarrassed of him. He had already noticed the whispers and looks of disgust from some of the people on what appeared to be the main road.

"Welcome to Asgard, Nephew," Thor said just as they passed by a bakery shop and then a blacksmith workshop with assorted weapons and armor on display.

"Where ams Papa?" Toki asked in a small voice as they got closer to what appeared to be the main square where a farmers market was taking place. He noticed several heads swivel in their direction. Many bowed or lowered their heads to Thor but would give him a disapproving glance. Toki wanted to sob. He would definitely embarrass Papa. The least he could do, he guessed, was take off the hat.

"He's at the Palace waiting to meet you," Thor replied as Toki shook his long hair loose from the cap. Someone in the crowd gasped and Toki looked around shyly. He heard whispers of what he thought was his name as they continued to walk. "You really look a lot like him."

Oh. Lots of people commented when he was first adopted that he looked a little like Papa. A reporter had once even stopped him when he was buying a gift for his adopted parents on Father's Day and asked if he knew if he was bio…bio… blood related to Papa. Toki simply told them it was none of their business. "I gets dats alots."

Thor gave him an odd look but continued to drag him up the mountain towards the huge golden building that actually put Mordhaus to shame with its size. Toki was silent the rest of the way, just taking in the splendor. When they finally reached the gates, Toki was shaking with anxiousness. He couldn't wait for Papa to come out and grab his shoulders firmly (Papa Charles' way of hugging).

"My son!" Toki heard someone call as the turned one of the corridors into a large meeting space in the palace before he was enveloped in the arms of a man who seemed oddly familiar. From the height similar to his own, he was hoping it was his Papa. But as he turned he saw black hair instead of deep auburn. Toki pulled away from the stranger and saw that it was indeed not his Papa.

"Who ams you? Where ams my Papa?"

The man reached for him again and Toki moved away, colliding with Thor's chest. The man looked as crushed as Toki felt.

"Ams this Valhalla?"

"Yes, my boy, it's the great hall of Asgard," said the elderly gentleman with one eye in a suit of armor.

"Then where ams Papa Charles?" Before waiting for an answer, Toki turned to Thor and said, "You saids you was takings me to Papa. Where ams my Papa?"

"Right here," the dark haired man said. "I'm your birth parent."

"I don't care," Toki said, panicking. He should have never left with the superhero. "I wants my Papa Charles!" Then he sank to the floor and sobbed.

To Be Continued…

Please Review!

YvetteD- Well, they were but then came Thor…

Bloodpocky- Lol. I did do an illustration on DA of Toki mpreg in Asgard if you want to pretend it was from that.

Lukando- Lol. As for Nathan, he's going to go all brutal and terrifying instead because Toki didn't come back

MewMew2- Glad you love it

Aurora Bluewolf- Glad you like it

Guest- here you go!


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Toki's earliest memories of his childhood were of a woman in a revealing yet raggedy dress sneering down at him as he reached him arms up to her. He remembered she had matted brown hair and bruises on her legs that he would wrap his small arms around and sometimes she would pick him up and hug back. Mainly, the woman just left him alone in the small freezing hut. He thought that woman might have been his mother.

One day when he was around five or six, she didn't come back from the market. He sat in the hut on the dirt floor next to the fire pit, tending it for what seemed like days before he ran out of kindling and had no energy to go the several miles to the woods to fetch more. He remembered simply laying there with no fire for hours before he felt strange. Before he realized it, his skin had turned blue and felt slightly warmer. When he looked back on it as an adult, he was probably suffering from hypothermia. At one point he went outside because he was too warm.

Then the Reverend Wartooth appeared his face grave and solemn as he stared at him and wordlessly seized him by his hair. He was dragged to the Reverend's house where he lived as a slave for the Wartooth couple up until he ran away. He remembered hearing the villagers whisper that he was the Reverend's bastard when he ran back and forth to fetch water.

Toki doubted that was the case especially with what happened next. In spring, when the crops were refusing to start to grow, the Reverend would slice open Toki's palm with a strange carved iron knife and have the startled, injured boy walk the fields dripping drops of his blood into the soil while the Reverend held his stone pendant and muttered some weird incantations. The next day, the crops were ready for harvest. The Reverend continued to do this after the first success. He even did this ritual in the middle of winter and achieved the same result.

Farmers from the north began to flock to the miracle village in great numbers following that winter. Before Toki knew it, the village was a small cabin city. Toki didn't know what was so special about his blood and not the other children's but he was the only one used. Later, when the children were swimming in the river, Toki realized he was slightly different. Some had slits and some had penises. But no one besides him had both. As he grew older, the more Toki felt there was something very wrong and he heard the people whisper of how the reverend was controlling the magic of the gods.

The Reverend began to demand more things of Toki as time went on. He had to grind the grain, fish, and shepherd the sheep and cattle in the dead of winter, all of which he failed at miserably. More blood-letting began with each failure. There came a day when Toki was too pale and weak to move. On that day, the scary woman that was the reverend's wife made him sleep in their bed for three days and took care of him. It was the only kindness she showed him.

One night when Toki was laying on the floor of the house next to the fire, Toki stared into the fire and wished he was normal down there like everyone else. Seconds later, he felt sharp pain in his abdomen and chest that went away as quickly as it appeared. When he bathed himself in the ice river the next day, he realized the tiny slit between his legs and balls was gone. It never came back.

That was not the only thing that changed; the Reverend's ritual produced only half as many crops as before. After a week of the same result, the Reverend turned on Toki with angry eyes and began to beat him more senselessly than he ever had before. Bloody hands dug through the straw until he retrieved the makeshift clown doll he found in the hay one day. When Toki awoke in the familiar darkness of the punishment hole, sore and confused, he suddenly heard a male voice in his head telling him to run to Oslo.

'_Run to Oslo, my child. Run before he kills you,' _the voice urged.

A day later, when Toki could finally move, he made his way out of the punishment hole and into the house to steal the supplies he would need. He grabbed an old knapsack, shoved some clothes bread, and his doll inside and was about to leave when he felt like he was forgetting something. He didn't know to this day how he managed to steal the pendant from around the Reverend's neck without being caught or how he trekked from the village to Oslo on pure instinct.

Some strange force led Uncle Magnus to him. He found Papa Charles and Daddy Nathan and he had been incredibly happy. With them he forgot he was different and he forgot the past. He put it all behind him, until the moment a stranger showed up claiming to be his birth parent.

He'd been expecting to see Papa Charles, thinking Papa had seen him miserable and asked the god Thor to bring Toki to him. Instead the man who awaited him was the person who abandoned him to that awful childhood. Everything that had been building up in him- the painful childhood, the disgust with himself, the feeling of uselessness, grief for his lost family, and fear of what was going to happen- exploded and he fell to the ground sobbing in front of strangers.

Once he started, Toki found he couldn't stop. He heard the whispers of disgust around him but he just couldn't help it. "It figures Loki's issue would be a weakling," commented the large red-haired man with the long beard.

"More like touched in the head," replied the bearded blond next to him.

His estranged parent ignored the comment and knelt down to Toki's level and reached out wipe the tears. When Toki shrank away, the one eyed man who Toki realized was Odin sighed.

"Thor, pick your nephew up and carrying him to Loki's suite we will continue this there." As Thor picked him up like a child, Odin turned to address the court. "Well, I have to say the past few hours have been exciting." Then there was laughter and activity resumed in the hall as Toki was carried out like a rag doll with the stranger, Loki the Trickster Toki realized, trailing worriedly after them.

Once they had reached their destination, Thor placed Toki gently down on the bench where he curled into a protective ball and watched them with frantic frost blue eyes before the chamber doors opened once again to reveal Odin.

The king of Asgard immediately walked to Toki and knelt down. "Now, little one, I understand this is terrifying to you but such displays of hysteria will not be permitted any longer. Do you understand?" He paused and Toki froze, not thinking clearly enough to answer him. "Answer me."

"Father, he's scared. Please…" Loki pleaded as he reached towards Toki only to be met with a blank stare that forced him to drop his hand. "My child, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and Charles. Believe me, I would have been had the Wartooths not kept me trapped in impure stone. I want to be here for you now."

Toki despite his confusion still kept his silence, unsure of how to play this game. Why was Loki talking about Papa Charles? What stone? The only one he remembered the Wartooths having was the pendant he stole years ago. There was no way… his blood… the ritual… Loki was the God of Tricks. He was tricking him somehow; testing him before he would be allowed to see Papa.

"Brother, I think something is wrong with your child." Thor gently poked Toki's forehead.

"Perhaps, Thor is right, Loki. He appears mentally damaged." There was a look in that gray eye that Toki knew immediately he didn't trust, a secret message. "Then again, perhaps this is the product of such an unnatural union."

Loki flinched like he had been slapped. "No Father," Loki pleaded.

"I will not have another scene like that in my hall. He will be close and safe in an institution." Fear immediately filled Toki. He knew Mad Houses from history channel documentaries and their previous methods. He choked at the thought of lobotomy and shock therapy. He wanted to cry out, to scream, or do anything that would stop them but he was frozen.

Like a switch had suddenly been flicked in his mind, Toki suddenly found himself no longer in the strange palace. Instead, he was a child of ten again playing with his only friend, his clown doll, in the hay of the dark punishment hole. Memories of himself as an adult vanished. Truth was, Toki actually liked it down there. It was warm and he was away from evil stares and hateful hands. "Ka-ka-ka-ka I love you," said Toki as the clown doll. "I loves you toos, Clown," Toki hugged it closer and twirled with it.

Meanwhile above his punishment hole, Toki could hear voices. He stopped twirling and raised his head. The sky was such a pretty gold today.

"My son is not going to a mad house," someone hissed.

"What if he is dangerous, Brother?" another whispered with a mix of sympathy and despair.

"His presence here was already a shame on the family. If this man-child is mentally unstable,…" confirmed a deeper voice.

"He's staying in my rooms. I'll fix him," the first voice cut him off.

Fix who? Toki wondered just before he heard someone call his name from deeper in the punishment hole. Toki smiled, wrapped his arms around the doll. "I comings Papa!"

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Skwisgaar eyed the police and ambulances in fear, expecting Toki to be found laying on a stretcher with a white cloth over it or gasping dying mutterings. Then again, maybe the man matching Toki's description wasn't him, just a nameless fan of the little Norwegian guitar player.

The concrete road was torn and cracked, chunks ripped away by an extreme force that Skwisgaar was not used to seeing outside of a concert. How had they not seen the death funnel from their floating island a few miles away in the air?

He saw a little blue car lying in a field a little away from the road. It seemed in fairly good shape except for the weird mark on the handle of the backseat door. Skwisgaar watched Nathan stomp into the field to go inspect it just as Pickles sobered enough to begin looking inside the ambulances for Toki. (Drugs never lasted too long in Pickles' system. Skwisgaar wanted to help but he didn't know how, so he just stood in the middle of the destroyed road watching like it was a weird documentary on television.

"Nat'an," Pickles called from the back of one of the ambulances. Nathan immediately came charging from his spot on the ground to the ambulance; he was carrying some type of backpack in his arms. Skwisgaar found his long legs immediately walking there as well. Instead of Toki, the two were met with two men who looked like they were in their thirties. They had some bruising and cuts but otherwise appeared fine. The one with the blond hair was sobbing while the dark skinned man with dreads rubbed his back.

"Uh, Pickle, why dids yous call us?" Skwisgaar said.

"We were the last to see Toki," the dark skinned man stated, meeting Skwisgaar's eyes with shockingly pale orbs. "He was with us in the car; we were giving him a ride home when that freak storm hit out of nowhere."

"Where ams he?" Skwisgaar whispered, slightly afraid the two would say they'd find him broken in a ditch or field.

"The… there was a blond man with a hammer in the tornado," the panic-stricken blond man yelped. "He was dressed in weird clothes and pulling at the handle on the car."

"Ya sure, Dude? Could it be just the shock talkin'?" Pickles asked as he sympathetically patted the man's shaking hand.

"No, I saw the same thing," the black man replied. "The man somehow survived being in the tornado and was able to rip the door nearly off to get to the kid in the backseat. I tried to reach for Toki to pull him back in the car, but…" The man looked down at his left hand that was blistered and bleeding like he had some weird type of rope burn. "Somehow, I got hold of his shirt but it slipped out of my hand just before that blond man took him."

"Where'd he take 'im?" Pickles inquired in a low, neutral voice and Skwisgaar was almost hit with a sense that had Pickles not had an asshole family and a drug addiction, he would have made a great cop. Weird. Why was he thinking this right now? Toki. This was about little Toki.

"I don't know if my eyes were playing tricks on me or what, but it looked like he just jumped in the air and they were gone…"

Nathan suddenly seized the man by the front of his shirt and thundered, "Where did he go?"

4

"I don't know!" the black man replied.

"And what did you see?" Nathan growled out at the blond man.

The man sobbed in fear.

"Nat'an, I knaw you're scared fur Toki right naw, but scarin' the two guys 'ere won't 'elp," Pickle reminded him. Yeah, definitely Pickles would have made a good cop.

"Please," Skwisgaar finally said, dropping into a crouch next to the other blond, "Tells us."

"I… I… saw them va… vanishing into the sky!" the blond finally sobbed out.

Well, the band had seen stranger things happen. "Tell me w'at did this guy look like?" Pickles asked.

"He was about as big and broad as this guy," fellow-dread guy said indicating Nathan. "Blond hair to his neck, beard, and weird clothes."

"Weird 'ow?"

"For one thing, he was wearing a red cape besides wielding that hammer." For some reason, the description was buzzing around a lock in Skwisgaar's brain as if he knew who the man was describing but he just couldn't place it at the moment.

Skwisgaar sighed just as a police officer with grey hair appeared at the ambulance doorway. "Ams there any others witnesses?" Skwisgaar asked.

"Who are you?" the man demanded haughtily, as if being Skwisgaar Skwigelf didn't entitle the blond to everything.

"I ams the… Uncles of mans in accident. Needs to know where my little Tokis is," Skwisgaar replied back.

"Well, we'll let you know when we have a clearer picture of what's happened," the cop said. "Now, if you are not a licensed and certified paramedic, I suggest you get out of this ambulance."

Skwisgaar drew himself up to his full height and was satisfied to see the man was suddenly a little intimidated. "Fines, ams our friends cleared to comes with us?" He heard the sobbing behind him suddenly stop.

"Yeah, a few scrapes and bruises but nothing serious. We'll tow their car to the nearest repair shop once we finish with our investigation." Wow, this guy was practically letting Dethklok kidnap two guys without even asking any questions. But then, the cop took a deep sniff. "You boys partyin' already. It's not even five yet." Brown eyes found and narrowed on Pickles. "What kinds of drugs are you on, Son?"

"What kind of drugs am I not on?" Pickles replied back and Skwisgaar almost smacked himself in the forehead at the red-head's stupidity.

"Are you getting smart with me Son?" the cop fumed.

"I… I really don't t'ink that's possible," Pickles confirmed.

"Alright, wise guy, you're comin' down town with me."

"Well, okay than," Pickles said and happily skipped behind the police officer. Okay, Skwisgaar took it all back. Pickles would not have made a good cop.

"All right, you two are comin' with us," Nathan stated and immediately tried to force the black man to stand by grabbing his shoulders, only for the man to sit back down.

"Look, we're not goin' with you," the man said. "We tried to do the right thing by convincing your kid that he didn't have to run away and he needed to talk to you."

"And we ams grape-fuls for thats buts we needs you to helps us. We gives you guest rooms and you stays with us 'til we finds out where Toki ams. Is purr-fect-lees safes as longs as you remembers some doors open to drops."

"Well even uh… pay for your car to be repaired. Okay?"

The man sighed and turned to the blond next to him. "What do you think, Brad?"

"I think we should," the blond replied in a croaky vice with a tight smile.

Suddenly there was a row of dark hooded figures on the approach. It looked like they were going with the band one way or another. The dark-skinned man sighed in resignation. "Fine. I'll just have to tell work I'm on holiday. And who would believe we took our vacation at Mordhaus."

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Loki watched Hagar gently lower his son onto the bed, carefully arranging the pillows so the comatose boy was sitting up slightly. For hours after he had shown his family out the door, Loki had tried to get his son to eat, speak, or do anything other than simply stare at the ceiling. In the end, he'd only managed to get him to drink some broth before he sent for Hagar. Together, they made quick work of undressing him and redressing him in a simple white tunic and pants with a gold embroidered helm. "Poor child," Hagar commented as he secured the long brown hair in a tie at the nape of the neck.

"Do… do you think… my child is… that is to say…. do you think he's insane?" Loki asked the servant as he drew the covers over the still form.

"Insane has many different definitions, your highness," Hagar said as he straightened the covers on the side he was standing on before meeting Loki's eyes. Loki noted he was carefully avoiding answering the question. "But I have seen another man who was locked within his own body after he fell off his horse and managed to limp back with a cracked and bleeding skull. It took his wife years before he snapped out of it."

"How did she do that?"

Hagar smiled. "She talked to him every day and one day he heard her and came back." The servant straightened himself before looking back at the boy on the bed. Both of them just stood there watching the boy breath. After a minute or two, Hagar finally said, "You never did say what the new prince's name was."

Loki froze. He didn't know what the boy was called on Earth. Perhaps Loki should name him something. In the big bed, his child looked so small but there was something about him that glowed like a spark…. "Sindre. His name in Sindre."

To Be Continued…

PLEASE COMMENT/ ReViEw

Thank you for your reviews:

Oshii-enma: Here you go!

MewMew2: Poor Toki even more so here

Watergoddesskasey: Thank you

Lukano: Papa Charles is too awesome to kill off.

Iewuciukaz: Hope you like Pickles in this chapter too!


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Toki had followed his Papa's voice down a stone pathway and soon found himself in a large, incredibly well-lit chamber with posters of planes and famous pilots like Amelia Earhart decking the stone walls. There was a large work table in the middle of the room that was completely bare, a simple bed in the back with twelve stuffed animals waiting to be played with, and a simple shelf full of children's books and art supplies.

On top of the golden wood shelf was picture. Daddy Nathan was standing next to Papa Charles who had a light hand of ten year old Toki's shoulder. Eleven year old Skwisgaar, who was only slightly taller than Toki peaked out from behind Daddy Nathan. Uncle Magnus had his hand slung over Uncle Pickles' shoulders with ten year old Murderface glaring at the sight from the opposite side of the picture. There was something off about the picture, like it had been altered in some way but Toki couldn't figure out how.

"Papa, ams you in here?" There was no answer. Toki walked in the chamber and looked around. There were no secret doors and Papa was not the one who lurked under beds to tease him, that was Daddy's job because he didn't wear expensive suits and could afford to dirty his clothes. Where was Papa Charles? He could have sworn that he heard his voice calling to him. "Papa?" Once again there was no answer, so he tried calling for his other parent. "Daddy?"

"Sindre," came a soft male voice from behind Toki, causing the ten year old to jump. He turned around and there was no one was in the chamber with him. They must be in the pathway.

Toki clutched his clown doll closer to him. "Who says thats? Ams Skwisgaar? Nots funny Skwisgaar. I tells Uncle Pickles you tries to scare me." He looked out in the shadowy pathway expecting to see a blonde head glinting in the darkness and shaking in laughter, but there was no one.

"Sindre, do you hear me?" repeated the voice and Toki yelped in fear, shutting the solid wooden oval chamber door and locking it before retreating to the bed and gathering the plush toys to him in comfort. Once hidden safely behind the fortress of cotton stuffing, he waited to hear the voice again.

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

It had been over a week since Sindre's outburst and retreat into his own mind and during that time Loki and Hagar took care of him. Holding a comatose man who had been a baby that had ripped from his womb only days ago to his mind was an experience that should by all accounts have been should have broken a lesser man, but Loki had seen far too much in his life, even been through too much, for this to be a foreign concept. He knew of realms where in one Midgard day, a child would be born and grow to adulthood. He supposed he could treat this situation as such or see it as an opportunity to treat his child as the baby he had been denied.

Hagar had been called away by his father, so Loki was left to attend to his baby by himself. Loki hummed a childish as he cut and brushed Sindre's long brown hair and then twisted the soft strands into a long braid. "You have such beautiful hair, Sindre," he complimented. "I'm surprised your father allowed you to grow it out. Then again, he did like those… hair bands I think they were called. I'm half surprised he didn't grow his out as well but maybe it wouldn't look too good with those tight suits that he favored."

Sindre simply blinked at him.

Loki sighed before retrieving the washing bowl from the night stand and running the damp cloth over his child's limbs. When he yanked Sindre's torso and night shirt up to get to his back, Loki actually dropped both his son's body and the wash cloth in horror. He didn't know how he had missed them when Hagar had changed the boy's clothes but there were distinct, straight scars ran in a crisscross pattern up and down the tanned skin. "Oh, Yggdrasil…" He turned the child to his side so he could look at them clearer. It was clear none of the scars were fresh, in fact they all appeared to be several years old and many almost matched the boy's tan skin but it was clear from their varying colors and the amount they were most likely done over a long period of time.

Loki's vision flashed immediately a dark purple and red. Who did this? Who had harmed his child? Why had his father not protected him? "Who did this Sindre?" he growled. "Who hurt you?"

Sindre once again did not respond.

"Was it Reverend Wartooth?"

Sindre's body suddenly flinched and it suddenly dawned on Loki that these scars most likely held the reason for his unresponsiveness. It was a coping mechanism. The thought of how long his child had to have been in that madman's care to have accumulated these scars almost made him throw up.

Swallowing the acid in his throat, he carefully began to inspect every inch of his child. The right palm of Sindre's hand had a deep scar as well and there was the faintest binding rune that had been carved on the bottom of his left foot. When he inspected his child's sex organs, he discovered a lingering feeling of magic beyond the scrotum. His child had used his magic to do something and he prayed to the sacred ash tree that it was not to repair any further abuse. It was everything he'd been dreading. Covering his child back up, he gathered the stiff body to him. "Never again; I swear I will never let any harm you."

There was still no response. The child didn't trust him enough to leave the safety of his mind. He would have to assume another, more familiar form to get the boy to trust him; he knew what form that would be, the boy had been calling for him after all, but Loki wouldn't like it. But after seeing the scars on his child's flesh, he doubted he would come out for anyone else. This would be the quickest, easiest way.

He gently laid his child back on the bed and retreated from the small room to his own quarters where he stood in front of the mirror and stared at himself for the first time since he was abducted. His dark brown hair was longer, almost black from the lack of sunlight to bleach it. His skin was almost as pale as fine porcelain, it would have been interesting even beautiful but spider webs of veins were visible around his eyes and forehead. His green eyes were shadowed and clouded. It was no wonder why his brother's friends called him weak. He was a pale shadow of the laughing bartender with the loving lawyer husband.

"Please, forgive me Charles," he prayed to the man he still hadn't taken time to properly mourn.

Loki watched himself in the mirror as his jaw lowered and his shoulders became slightly broader; his hair moved a little further up and changed to short auburn brown; green eyes darkened to a hazel and narrowed; then everything was completed when his limbs gained another four inches and his green Asgardian clothes transformed into a tailored suit with light shoulder pads. Loki cleared his throat and then tested his voice, "Hello."

There it was; that soft masculine voice that used to greet him in the morning. Loki was certain he'd need to see kidnap a therapist to deal with both the issues he would acquire from wearing his dead husband's face and to help his son with his emotional trauma. Now that he had the form his son would trust, how best could he use it? He couldn't wear the form for too long, someone would notice and blow his cover. It was also clear that the two had built an entire life, inner jokes and memories that Loki knew nothing about while he had been trapped so Sindre would be able to detect something was off eventually.

So he'd have to make sure this illusion would count. He only prayed it would work.

He tried to match the soft determined gait he had heard across the apartment floor every morning as he entered his son's room. Sindre was just where he left him, his eyes staring at nothing. "Time to get up now," he called out in the octave of his dead husband's voice.

After a few seconds, there was a faint sound, "Papa?" Frost blue eyes met hazel in confusion. "Ams it you?" Loki almost wept for joy that he had achieved a response and so quickly.

"Yes and no. I am… checking on you from in-between planes of existence…"

Strangely muscular arms wrapped around his torso quicker than Loki could blink. His child was hugging him. "I misses you Papa. Why didn'ts you comes homes? Why you leaves me behinds?"

Loki thought fast on his feet. "I am dead, little one. The fact that you can see me now is a miracle. Tell me, why have you retreated into your mind?"

Sindre's body began to shake. "Nos, Papa! Don'ts leaves mes alone agains. Daddy don'ts cares abouts Toki anymores. He ignores mes and thens when leaves me in house alones. Says Toki ams worthless. Then big blond man falls from skys and says he takes me tos you, but yous not here. Insteads there ams weirds mens who says they throws me in dam mads house. I scareds Papa."

Loki let the boy sob against him with some awkward, gentle pats to the boy's back. Toki… Charles had named their child Toki? And who was 'Daddy?' Had Charles moved on… Loki tried to force the jealousy and betrayal that stung at his eyes. He'd been gone for over twenty years to Charles. It would be hard to imagine anyone, especially a species with such a short life span, going that long without intimacy.

"Papa?" Sin… Toki called. "Ams you missing us toos?"

"Yes, little… Toki. But you are safe here."

"Safe?" Toki repeated, frost blue eyes blinking in fear as long, calloused fingers twisted in loose strands of brown hair and pulled in distress. Loki tried to focus on something besides the betrayal in his gut by noting Sind… Toki seemed to have inherited his hair- so fine it escaped its bands. "Withs people who lies to mes ands woulds threatens mes?"

"Your… uh… bearer will not allow that to happen."

Toki tilted his head like a puppy trying to decipher a command. "Bearers… Whats you means?"

"The man with the…uh… the dark brown hair who is watching over you is the man who gave birth to you, Toki," Loki supplied somewhat nervously.

"Mans cants gives birth, Papa," Toki argued. So Charles never told Toki about his other parent.

"Your bearer is not completely a man, uh… although he… um… calls himself one."

"Oh," Toki replied. For several minutes everything was quiet.

"Are you alright?"

"I nots completely mans eithers," the boy confessed and suddenly the lingering magic around the boy's sex organs clicked in Loki's head. It wasn't to repair damage, the boy had used his magic to hide his hermaphroditic nature. His boy really was almost a copy of Loki himself. "So I ams nots a freak?"

"It's not common but… it does happen." Loki refrained from mentioning that Aesir children with two sex organs always died in their childhood. That had been one clue in Loki's adult years that he was adopted from another race.

Toki smiled. "I's nots a freak…"

"No, you are not… at the very least, you are not alone," Loki replied before he could stop himself from giving the boy false hope. He then untangled his husband's form from the boy's arms. "Toki, I must go. Your bearer will look out for you now that I cannot."

Toki attempted to reach out and pull him back. "No, don't leaves mes! I needs yous!" Tears were streaming like raindrops on a window pane down the boy's face.

Loki shook his head slowly. "You have everything that you need. You will be fine." He disillusioned his form slowly, mimicking a ghost that was fading away before walking out the chambers and leaving the boy sobbing on the bed. With a mixture of relief and guilt, he shrugged off the form and returned to his normal self before noticing Hagar sitting on a bench against the wall.

"I see you got him to come out of his mind," the old servant whispered in a voice that could barely be heard above the sobs, his tone neutral but his gaze disapproving.

"Yes, I did," Loki whispered back then gestured for the servant to follow him to his own chambers where he shut the door to avoid his act from being blow. "I take it, you have a problem with my methods?"

"Loki… I have known you since Odin brought you home in his arms. You have always despised being lied to by your father, yet you are doing it to your own child. Do you not see that this will end badly?"

"It will not," Loki hissed. "I will not assume Charles' form again." Even as he said it, he heard a small voice in his head whispering doubts but he quickly squashed them down.

"Yes, you will. If you chose the easy way once, you will do it again," Hagar argued. "Also, what is to stop that child from talking about a visit from his dead father and being finally labeled completely mentally unstable? Do you know what your father could do to him?"

"It will be awhile before I allow him to venture out of my sight for very long and by then I will convince my child it was all just a dream, a trick of the mind to help him deal with reality."

Hagar shook his head sadly. "Lies on top of lies. Your silver-tongue fools everyone but yourself and that boy is more like you than you know, Loki. This is one day back fire on you."

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Blue eyes stared at the sleek metal stand across from him, caressing the black and white object it held with loving detail but he did not make any movement to pick it up. Despite the tragic loss of their manager and friend and the kidnapping of their family member and rhythm guitarist, the acting head of the Crystal Mountain Records, Damien Cornickleson, was threatening to sue them for breach of contract because they had failed to provide a new album within the two years stipulated. So, reluctantly, the remaining four had retreated to the recording studio but had failed to come up with anything.

Yet, since Toki had vanished, Skwisgaar's mind didn't seem to hold any more music and his fingers had frozen over the simplest of cords. Somehow, his playing had lost his power. Dr. Twinkletits claimed anxiety was the reason for this strange occurrence. Whatever it was, everyone in the band had started to feel it. Nathan's voice had lost its persuasiveness and strength that rivaled Lucifer no matter how much he screamed. Pickles, after they had gotten him back from the police, could not sit behind the drum case without having some kind of medical emergency where he nearly overdosed on something. Without Toki around, he'd somehow lost his immunity to drugs. Even Murderface couldn't stay in the recording studio for five minutes without ranting about something and storming off to hide in his room.

"I sorrys Toki," Skwisgaar whispered to the empty room. "I sorrys Is ams sayings mean things. Comes homes."

"Dude, you knaw 'e can't 'ear you. 'E ain't dead." Skwisgaar looked up to see Pickles in the doorway, swaying on his feet. The word 'yet' lingered behind the sentence like the odor of a deceased stink bug.

"What ams wes a doings?" Skwisgaar asked.

"Wha'cha mean?" Pickles asked as he staggered over to the stark white bed and fell across it on his belly.

"Wes ams takings orders from dildo guy because we donts haves no Charles anymores. But cants play withouts Toki. Sparks ams missing."

"Yeah, the kid was a better guitar player 'an we gave 'im credit fur, even if it was that a(guitar riff)hole Magnus who taught 'im. 'E made you out do 'im."

"Then whys we listens tos da dildos? I don'ts feels likes da playing 'til we haves Toki homes ands ins…" Skwisgaar's voice trailed off and his eyes suddenly got hysterically wide. If Pickles were high at the moment, he'd probably think he was hallucinating how wide they got. "No, ams nots… Is miss-thinks."

The inner discovery was completely lost on Pickles, who was face down on the fur blanket petting it mumbling about ice cream. Obviously whatever drug he'd taken before coming into the room had finally kicked in.

It was minutes later that Nathan showed up, black framed glasses perched on his nose as a large first clutched some papers. "This is bulls(guitar riff)t!"

"What ams?"

"Those gays in the car said one of the men who broke into the house was the one who kidnapped Toki but no jack off in the police or even the FBI know who the dildo is."

"Donts you means 'guys'?"

"No."

"Oh. That ex-plainickles its." After a minute of silence interrupted only by Pickles muttering about someone touching him and his father, Skwisgaar finally said, "So whats we dos?"

"I'll tell you what you boys do- nothing."

The air was sucked out of the room and the two people conscious turned bleach white in shock to see a familiar figure step out of the shadows. Clothed in a cotton shirt, leather jacket, and black jeans with a black motorcycle helmet under his arm was a man they had cremated several months ago. "I'm home now and I'm going to find our son."

To Be Continued…

PLEASE COMMENT!

Thank you for your reviews:

Guest- Well… kinda.

Bloodpocky- They will get along but Toki doesn't like it when people lie to him either.

Super Lizard- Yeah. Before Dethcamp and the last episode, I saw Magnus as a silent guy who was bordering on mental instability like the rest of 'em. Glad you love the story!

Sweet sexy loli- Thanks. I try!

Watergoddesskasey- Thank you!

Iewuciukaz- I'd love that! And Pickles is one of my favorite characters because he has such depth hidden under all the booze and rock star mentality.

P.S. DON'T FORGET TO VISIT MY DEVIANT PAGE!


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The only sound in the immaculately white and grey room was the sound of the rambling drummer face-down on the bed in his drugged stupor. Nathan, the son of a retired military officer, never had been one to tremble but at the moment limbs were shaking and the reports he'd been holding had tumbled out of his hands onto the grey floor as he stared at the man in the doorway. Emotions he'd long ago suppressed and buried under alcohol and food suddenly returned with revenge. Part of him wanted to laugh in joy, take the man in his arms, and kiss the life out of him ignoring all sense of what makes a real man and what would be accepted that had been instilled in him as a boy. The other part wanted to puke up whatever remained in his stomach and walk away like nothing happened.

Instead of choosing either option, Nathan found himself simply growling out, "Uhhh…"

It was Skwisgaar who finally moved. Long pale limbs danced around the fallen paper before coming before their manager, grabbing Charles' jacket and roaring, "Wheres whats yous?"

Charles did not respond and Nathan just continued to stand there stupidly as if he were in front of people delivering speech. "Uhhh…" He wanted to scream with Skwisgaar too! He wanted answers then he would…

"I speak-eye-lings tos yous, Managers! Wheres ams yous whens Pickles takings to da hop-sickles? Whens Tokis neededs his Fathers? Wheres ams yous whens Nathans gives himself da Die-ah-beats from overs-eatings? Wheres ams yous whens I needs da advice ons things?" Charles was in the air now, almost a good foot off the ground as the Swede ranted at him but he wasn't even blinking an eye.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here, boys. I promise to tell you all what happened when the time is right, but right now I am here to find Toki and bring him home." Charles' voice was calm and collected, not the least bit shaky or as intimidated as the man used to be when the Swede or Nathan would use their height to their advantage on him in the past. He'd changed somehow and Nathan wanted so badly to find out how and why.

This did little to diffuse Skwisgaar's anger and finally the blond lost his English and erupted into a Swedish tirade, yelling loud and fast enough that even Murderface would venture cautiously from the other end of Mordhaus to see what the commotion was about.

"I'm sorry, Skwisgaar," Charles repeated and reached out as much as he could to lay a comforting hand on the tense bicep of the blonde holding him.

A few minutes after Charles' calm voice penetrated pure Swedish fury, the guitarist set him on his feet and then knelt on the ground so he could wrap his arms around the manager's waist and bury his head in his stomach. Charles simply pet the Swede's golden mane before turning to address Nathan. "So, what do we know?"

Nathan was frozen, still tongue-tied and confused. Charles was expecting him to say something… What could he say… "Well… the… and…"

When Nathan failed to say anything, Charles sighed and shook him head mumbling something under his breath that sounded like, "Don't know why I expected more out of you…" Nathan froze. Then the manager untangled himself gently from the Swede's grip and said, "Skwisgaar, do you mind showing me what we have so far on Toki's kidnapping?"

"Ja," the Swede responded quietly, rising to his feet and then leading the manager out of his room.

Funny how, with only a sentence, Nathan suddenly felt like he was little more than gum on the sidewalk. The singer couldn't deal with this right now. He needed a good beer or two right now… maybe a hundred… followed by sex with at least five women in a row- anything that would stop him from collapsing on the floor and slowly dying there in place.

"Nat'an," came the call from the red-head on the bed as large, dilated green eyes stared up at him. "Nat'an…"

"Yeah?" Nathan replied.

"Can ya set the alarm? I gotta wake the baby."

"Uh…" Baby? What baby? It took Nathan a second to decipher what the drummer was raving about this time. Toki, he used to call Toki the baby; Pickles was talking about waking Toki up for breakfast. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Thanks, dude." Then the drummer passed out and Nathan was once again left with his own thoughts. After a few more minutes of them, he could not take them and he left the room to find the two in the security room, pausing outside the doorway as he thought about what he should say.

"Freeze that image," he heard Charles direct as the manager leaned over the controls. "Enlarge on the dark haired figure…"

There was silence for several minutes before a klokateer dared to ask, "Sir, do you know this man?"

"Yes… Yes I do. Question is what does he want with Toki…"

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Toki didn't know how long he lay on the strange bed sobbing for the ghost of his Papa to come back, but his eyes were puffy and hurting and he could scarcely breathe. He could just hear Skwisgaar and Murderface teasing him in his head, but he couldn't stop. When he finally ran out of tears and the urge of nature was too pressing, Toki sat up and tried to catch his breath, examining the unfamiliar surroundings through watery eyes. The bed was a little bigger the one he slept on since he moved out of Papa's suite in Mordhaus, but the sheets were an inviting dark grey with green thread. The walls were a soft yellow. There was a simple wooden dresser with hanger knobs in the corner and a matching nightstand eight inches away from the bed. The only slightly personal thing about the room was the red and orange orchids in a red glass vase sitting on the nightstand.

Where was he again? He vaguely remembered Odin talking about taking him to his bearer's rooms but he didn't know how big the suite was. In Papa Charles' suite, Toki's childhood room had been behind a hidden panel in his office and Papa's room had been out in the open but had a hidden hallway to Toki's room. This suite could be a maze as well, so if he ventured too far he might have trouble finding his way back and what if all the other rooms looked alike like klokateer rooms?

Still, he needed to wash his face and take care of his bladder.

Sniffling, Toki rose cautiously from the bed on wobbly, numb legs and walked to the simple door and opened the knob to reveal a large lounge area with wooden and stone benches arranged into a semi-circle. His bearer must entertain a lot of friends if he actually used the area.

"I'm happy to see you're awake," came the soft voice from his left. Toki turned and saw the man who had claimed he was Toki's parent in the doorway of a hall. For some reason the silent entrance did not startle Toki; in fact, his presence was slightly familiar.

Toki shifted nervously from foot to foot and looked at the ground shyly. He knew he should say something, but what? What did someone say in a situation like this?

"Would you like something to eat?" Loki asked.

Toki looked up and saw kind green eyes looking him over. It reminded him a lot of Pickles… he should have probably talked to Uncle Pickles more before he thought to run away. Shaking the regret away, he quietly replied, "Maybes laters. Do you has bathrooms?"

Loki smiled. "Yeah, it's similar to the ones on Earth. The garderrobe is through the door to your right."

"Thank yous," Toki said before retreating to the door Loki had pointed out. After attending to his business, he washed up and hesitantly walked back out into the main area where his bearer was sitting waiting for him. Swallowing his fear, he sat down two arm lengths away and waited for Loki to say something.

Both were quiet for a while, each scanning the other with their eyes. "Sos… why ams I heres?"

Loki's hand clenched as he answered, "I had to make sure you were somewhere safe away from Earth, so asked my brother to go find you and bring you home."

Toki's eyes narrowed, "Whys now?" He knew Papa had given him an explanation but he wanted to hear it out of his so-called bearer's mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"Whys you claims mes now? Why nots when Papa Charles dies or befores whens da…" Toki's voice trailed off. He still had some trouble speaking about his treatment in the village to people he didn't trust.

Loki looked like he wanted to reach out to him but Toki didn't want to be touched by anyone he didn't fully trust so he leaned even further way. "I know this will probably be hard to accept for someone who was raised on Earth, but there is magic in this universe…"

Toki shook his head. "Ams not hards to axe-cepts. Mades da Lake Troll of Finland awaken once. Was chaos and bloods everywhere."

Loki raised a brow but made no comment and proceeded, "Magic can be used protectively or it can be used to harm or control others. When… when I was carrying you in my womb, I was captured by someone who knew exactly how to trap my kind. Reverend Wartooth kept me in iron chains, a metal which many beings from other realms are allergic to, until I gave birth to you and he trapped me in unpolished amber."

Toki tilted his head. So what Papa's ghost had told him was true. It also explained the iron items in the Reverend's home that he would sometimes use on him. So… he had been wearing his other parent around his neck since he fled? Maybe that's why the other felt slightly familiar. "So… you gives da birth of me?"

Loki nodded. "I did. Unfortunately, I barely got a look at you before I was sealed in the stone. I was only able to escape when it shattered or I would have come sooner."

Realization ran through Toki when he recalled how the stone had cracked in his hand when he was running away. "I dids it."

"Did what?"

"I cracks da stones and den…"

"You threw it at Charles' tomb," Loki finished, green eyes taking in his arms. "I had not realized you were that strong."

"Papa makes sure I cans fights by high-her-ings da teachers. But I don'ts likes to fights for reals." Then a thought occurred to Toki. "You knew Papa? You calls him by his first name."

Loki gave him a soft smile and nodded. "Yes. I knew him, he was my husband."

Toki jerked away and his eyes narrowed. "You lie!" Loki flinched, taken back by Toki's statement. "Papa ams never marrieds! He woulda tells me."

"He didn't know."

"How cans he be marrieds and nots know? Makes no sense!"

"Because I tricked him a few months before we conceived you into making…" Loki's voice trailed off and he cleared his throat, "um… let's just say we performed an ancient ceremony in a sacred place without his knowledge."

Toki shook his head. "Then that's ams nots marriage. Marriage needs consents."

His bearer rolled his shoulders, a gesture that Toki often found himself doing when he was caught pulling a prank on Murderface. "Just believe me when I say he did indeed consent."

Then another thought occurred to Toki. "Waits… you ams saying Papa ams really my Papa?"

"Yes… why else would he name you a name so similar to my own if he was not aware of your relationship?"

"Papa not names mes; Daddy dids."

Toki didn't notice how Loki's eyes narrowed in jealousy before the god of mischief sighed. "Either way, he was your birth father."

"And yous ams my Mama?"

Loki drew back and cleared his throat. "Well yes… but I would prefer it if you call me something like 'Da' or 'Pater.'"

"Nots Mom?"

Loki shook his head. "I may have the inner workings of females but I do not call myself one. Do you?"

Toki's eyes widened. How did Loki know that? He was tempted to double check to see if the slit had grown back. "You knows I hads…"

"Well…you are my child. It stands to reason you have inherited some of my features besides my eye shape, nose, cheek bones and forehead." Before Toki realized it, Loki had closed the large gap between them and his chin was gently gripped by a long fingered hand that was similar to his own as green eyes scanned him. "However, you do have your Papa's mouth, chin, ears and shoulders."

Despite his fear of being touched by someone he didn't trust, Toki found himself smiling warmly at the comment that he had something that resembled his deceased Papa. Even though he had been told that often before, it was nice to know those features actually did belong to Papa Charles and not some faceless man who had abandoned him to the snow. "I does?"

"You do," Loki confirmed.

Before he knew it himself, Toki found himself wrapping his arms around his kidnapper and smiling as the god let out a joyous laugh and petting the fine strands of hair that had escaped its braid.

"It's almost dinner time now," Loki… 'Da' said after a few minutes, still running his fingers through Toki's hair and scalp. "Most of the court will be in the great hall, so the gardens will be deserted. Do you think you want to stretch your legs outside?"

Toki nodded eagerly. The more he knew about where he was and all escape routes, the more comfortable he would be.

"Okay then, follow me."

/ / / / / / / (o. }=\ \ \ \ \ \ \

Thor laughed and toasted his friends as they boasted over their latest successful hunts. Volstagg had trapped several rabbits, Hogun had brought down an eight-point buck, and Fandral had found a beautiful woman on their journey and lured her into his bed, escaping before her husband had come home. Lady Sif shook her head in amusement, lips curled in mischief as if she knew exactly which woman and which man Fandral had disgraced this past week.

"So when will you rejoin our hunts, my friend?" Fandral asked as he leaned over Thor and snagged a buttered roll of the Thunder god's plate as he often did.

Thor rolled his eyes at the other blonde's antics. "I plan on going hunting tomorrow, if you all would like to join me."

"Wonderful!" Volstagg chirped between large gulps of wine.

"Will little Loki be joining us or will he remain at the side of his addled child?" Fandral mocked, crinkling his nose in distaste. Fandral had never like Loki since he had tricked him into believing he was a female once during an odd party where Frigga had decided everyone should wear a mask. The blonde man had not left Loki's side all through the masked feast, even telling Thor that he had finally found his wife in a matter of hours. Then Loki had taken off the wig and mask and Fandral had been teased for unnaturalness for a month.

Thor slammed his large hand down on the heavily enforced table and shot Fandral a warning glare as he hissed, "Do not speak of my nephew in such a manner." Fandral had already bashed Loki's reputation and standing for his trick, Thor's nephew did not need to be punished for it as well.

"You have to admit, Thor, that the boy's display when he first arrived did call into question his sanity," Hogun reasoned between small nibbles at the roasted mutton leg in his hand.

"Regardless, the boy is family." Thor's bottomless appetite was now completely gone for the evening and he pushed his plate away.

"Well, when will we get to meet the child?" Sif asked leaning forward eagerly. It had been quite some time since there had been any other visitor to their realm and Sif like most was curious.

"I do not know," Thor admitted, biting his tongue like there was something he was holding back before proceeding, "After my brother and nephew's ordeal, I do not believe Loki will allow the child to venture out of his sight for too long."

"What I want to know is what Midgardian woman would be desperate enough to sleep with Loki!" the red-headed Volstagg laughed. The laughter was infectious and soon Sif and Fandral had joined him.

"It was not a woman," Thor corrected before he could stop himself. All the laughter stopped.

"What?" Sif asked, curious. "What do you mean?"

Never one who could cover up the truth or capable of lying period, Thor lowered his bright golden eyes and confessed, "Loki is… well… Loki is not completely male…"

"Thor, are you saying he is both?" Hogun asked after a few seconds of silence.

Thor nodded.

"That's impossible!" Sif reasoned, rising in her seat and attracting attention. When she sat back down, activity once again resumed in the hall. After a few minutes of glancing around and making sure they were the only paying attention to their conversation, she waved for Thor to explain.

"Unfortunately, it is not. He is both and he conceived my nephew with his Midgardian husband."

"In that case, I'm surprised only his brain is deformed and not his looks," Fandral commented.

"Come to think of it… You know, I've always wondered where Loki found that eight-legged horse for the All-father," Volstagg added before Thor could threaten Fandral for such a comment.

"Enough!" Thor hissed. "I will not have you spreading more rumors and gossip of my brother and chasing him away again."

"Still… how barbaric these Midgardian people must be to allow such unions," Fandral continued, ignoring the clear warning in Thor's voice.

Before Thor could challenge Fandral, Hogun stepped in and surprised everyone when he acknowledged, "Such unions were not unheard of among warriors of my people." They had forgotten Hogun had come from another, almost extinct race. When everyone fixed their questioning gaze on him, he added, "Asgardian history even acknowledges some such pairings when the population of women was low."

"Are you saying you would marry a man?" Fandral pressed with the most disturbed face Thor had ever seen him wear.

"If I were to fall in love with a man, then yes."

"Hey! I have an idea!" Volstagg suddenly announced and Thor was instantly taken back. Volstagg never had good ideas. "Is Loki's husband dead?"

"Yes…" Thor answered with suspicion. If Volstagg was going to suggest Volstagg should marry the youngest prince, Thor would have to knock him out right there in the hall. Volstagg may be a friend but he would make a horrible match for anyone, especially his brother.

"Hogun has never really fallen in love with any woman, so how about we set him up with Loki?"

Hogun's face was the brightest purple Thor had ever seen. It appeared he would not be adverse to the idea. Now that Thor thought about it, the Grim would make a good match for his brother. He would be someone who could match Loki in intellect and control him from doing too much mischief.

"I agree," Thor finally said and reached over to place a friendly hand on Hogun's shoulder. "I will be very honored to call you my brother-in-law."

To be continued…

Please Review!

Thank you for the reviews:

Oshii-enma- Hope this chapter was equally amazing

Lukando- Yep! And Nathan is confused about it…

Supercutelolita- Those are my obsessions too!

Bloodpocky- That's a relief. I was wondering if you hated the last chapter.

Guest

Guest

Watergoddesskasey: glad you like it.

Iewuciukaz: Ice cream always sounds good! Hope you enjoy Pickles here too!


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

He'd been tailing one of Crozier's men for five months as he tried to discover more and more about the group that was monitoring his boys closer than the media and their murderous intentions, not even catching another glimpse of the demonic man with the long white hair. He'd infiltrated Crozier's ranks under the name of James Lopandovitch and successfully even managed to seduce on of Crozier's favorites, a huge hulk of a dark-haired man, into his bed when he'd heard of Toki's kidnapping. An hour later, Charles was once again faking his death and leaving a grieving soldier to comb the explosion for his lover.

The number of Klokateers had dwindled to a few hundred in Charles' absence for reasons unknown and the main security room of Mordhaus was half empty when he and Skwisgaar entered the room. When no one immediately snapped to attention as they had before his 'death,' Charles cleared his throat and announced, "I need to see the video footage of the break in."

A glass shattered and a data pad thumped onto the floor near a swaying Klokateers' feet. "Am… is…?" And then he was down for the count.

Annoyed, Charles glared at the remaining roadies/soldiers and addressed them, "Yes, none of you are hallucinating, this is not a dream, and I am not an imposter. I faked my death for reasons that will be discussed at a later date. Now, let's just focus on the situation with Toki; I want the security footage on screen." When no one in the room moved, clearly still in shock, Charles firmly added, "NOW."

A second later, the footage was displayed on the main screen. Charles noted the time stamp at the minute the golden haired man with a hammer in what looked like a strange Romanesque type of armor began advancing on screen through the entrance hallway. The strides of the intruder were not the purposeful, quick footfalls of an assassin or cautious, soft steps of a scout but slow and uneven as the man glanced this way and that, taking everything around him in.

Like shadows, Charles watches as his Klokateers move out to meet him, only to fall brokenly to the ground. Moments later another figure comes into view of the camera, wrapped in some sort of red cloth before the screen goes blank just as the face turns upward to meet the camera dead on. Charles gets only a brief glimpse of dark brown hair and green eyes before it fades to black but he instantly thinks he recognizes it.

He hears Skwisgaar shift uncomfortably beside him and turns to see the blond holding the bridge between his eyebrows with his head lowered, a gesture Charles could not recall the Swede ever making before. "We beens over dis, Charlies. Ams no ideas who dey ams.

"Was anything taken?"

"After a sweep of the room, nothing of value seemed to have been taken, Sir," Klokateer 438 volunteered.

"Dey was nots heres for drugs or moneys. Dere was huge bag of ox-Eye-code-on on couch and somes of Murderface's golden Civils War lockets on tables. Dey was still there."

"Was anything touched? Any fingerprints lifted and analyzed?"

"There was a strange organic chemical in the shape of a hand on the television and arcade games but we have yet to determine its origin."

"Hmm. Slow down the image of the second intruder frame by frame." Klokateer 325 nodded and did as he requested until Charles cried out for her to stop and print the image. When it was slowed down, Charles finally was able to get a good look at the intruder. Dark hair, pointed chin, haunting green eyes. Though his cheeks were slightly hollow, the second intruder seemed not to have aged at all from that day almost twenty-one years ago.

"Loki…" Charles found himself saying in astonishment.

"Pfft. Thens da mans with hammers must thinks he ams da Thor. Onlys Toki gets kidnapped by da mens what thinks they ams Norse Gods," Skwisgaar stated with a shaking quiver at the end of his observation.

Charles froze in place, barely even breathing as he felt a sensation of what felt like cold water being dumped on him as he suddenly realized what would have seemed insane years ago before Dethklok, before ancient trolls rising from Finnish lakes and demons destroying priests were realities. '_I'm not human_,' Loki had said years ago. The idea that his ex-partner was not human was far more believable now than ever and scholars had theorized that the ancient gods and goddesses had their foundations in some form of reality. Could Loki have really been the Loki? If that was the case, where had he been and why kidnap Toki of all people…?

Loki's scared voice suddenly echoed in his head. '_I think I'm pregnant…_'

Oh.

"Charlies?" Skwisgaar called. When he didn't respond, the Swede motioned for a chair to be brought to him and he was gently maneuvered into it.

'_I think I'm pregnant…_' Loki had stated almost twenty-one years ago. Toki, the adopted man-child who was often said to so resemble Charles, was about twenty years old now and they had found him in the same city Loki had disappeared in. There had always been something about Toki that nagged at Charles to investigate but he had left it alone, trusting his adopted son to come to him if he ever wanted to talk. Could Toki have been his biological child?

"Charlies?" Skwisgaar repeated, shaking his shoulder a little.

"I… I believe I may have a lead on Toki. Klokateers 267 and 325, I need you to research everything that you can about Norse mythology and bring everything you can to me. Klokateer 865, did Toki leave behind his hair brush?"

"Yes, Sir…"

"Get it to the lab and compare the DNA on it with my own."

As the Klokateers sprung into actions, Skwisgaar knelt down to Charles' level and asked, "What ams it? Why Toki's D… D…"

"DNA," Charles clarified. "The second intruder looks just like my ex-lover, Loki. He disappeared twenty-one years ago in Oslo, Norway after, of all things, informing me he was pregnant. Naturally, at the time I did not believe it… but in light of Toki's abduction, I find myself wondering if it is possible that…"

"Toki ams yours?" Skwisgaar finished, blue eyes wide in horror.

"Well after Finnish lake trolls and beings from other dimensions, I can't rule anything out. If the DNA half matches up to mine… I will know the reason for Toki's abduction."

From his place on the small stone bench inside the large courtyard of in the center of the palace maze, Loki watched his child practice the simple gardening spells he'd been teaching him throughout the week. The lessons in the late evening through morning had both served as something to keep his child occupied and disinterested in seeking out spiteful Asgardians for companionship and a way for Loki to test how adapt his son was. After only a week, Loki was pleased to say his Toki was a natural in magic and Loki soon planned to teach him defensive spells for when the boy eventually did journey into the Great Hall.

"What flowers ams good medicines?" Toki asked as he ran a lightly glowing hand over a rare patch of blue roses in the hedge and beckoned it to bloom. "Or ams they alls just prettys?" Toki lifted his hand away and Loki instantly saw at least ten new buds that would bloom the following day. The Mischief-Maker imagined the sudden new bloom of flowers near the end of Asgard's growing season would confuse Frigga.

"The lavender patch in the north corner is good for calming the mind when used in oils and teas," Loki offered with a smile, before pointing to one of the tall green plants near the small silver and marble fountain. "The lyre-leaved sage plant there can be used for digestive problems."

"Ams dis what you do? Use the plants to help people?" Toki asked as he leaned down to cup a bell-shaped flower and inhale its sweet scent.

Loki was momentarily taken back, not expecting any question like that to be sprung upon him. "No," he answered, "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wonderings what ams your job…" Toki replied somewhat bashfully.

Loki tilted his head, studying his son's expression and finding there was a hesitance in his questioning as though he were afraid of the answer. "Well… on Earth, I owned a small bar but I suppose it might have been sold or left to rot over the years unless your father kept it going in my absence… but here in Asgard, I… I suppose my only job is to stand at my brother's side."

Toki frowns, "Sounds boring."

Loki let out a huff of agreement. "It is. Although Odin once said we were both born to be kings, it became clear when we began to mature that Odin favored my brother over me for the role of King. When my… preference became know, it only furthered Thor's claim and cast me further into his shadow. But such is the life of a second born." Loki patted the spot on the bench next to him and Toki sank down onto it, curling into his bearer's side with such complete trust that Loki's smile nearly split his face. "I did once consider becoming a healer but I fear my rebellious stage would have any patient I have weary of my touch. And what of you young one; what would you like to become?"

"I ams good with money and biz-eye-ness. I help Papa with organ-eyes-ings da invoices and balance da books."

Loki chuckled and drew his child closer into him. "Sounds like you would like to be the family librarian."

"Dats would bes nice buts I wants to helps people, Pater." Oh, what a sweet child Loki had brought into the realms. Loki threaded his hands through the pale brown hair and smiled sadly. He wished he could promise that future to the boy but he knew that the court would not look favorably on any child of his, especially one he himself birthed. Any great future or responsibility given to little Toki would be cast aside unless the boy proved himself in the most respected arena of Asgard- the battlefield; but Loki prayed to the Higher Gods that his child would never step foot in such a place.

They stayed curled up together on that little stone bench until there was a rustling of the hedges coming from the palace. Loki instantly tensed until the familiar blond form of his adopted brother came into view. "Ah, there you are brother! I stopped by your rooms but you were not there and I am so excited that it just couldn't wait!"

Loki raised an eyebrow. "What couldn't wait Thor?"

"Father took me aside and told me that I am to be crowned King of Asgard within the week!" Thor cried out, his eyes sparkling like the dancing sky above their heads and his arms outstretched in triumph.

Loki brushed away the slight pang of jealousy and smiled delicately. "Congratulations." He carded his fingers through his son's hair once again, inadvertently bringing Thor's attention to the paler form next to him.

"Ah, Nephew!" Thor cried as he quickly advanced and scooped up the nervous boy in his arms and spun him around. "When I am King, you both will want for nothing."

"Umms… thank yous?" Toki replied hesitantly, trying to squirm out of the firm grip on his waist only to get spun around again as Thor whooped in joy.

Thor set Toki down and gripped the boy's upper-arms in excitement. "I knew you would come out of that strange sleep, Child! Tomorrow, I shall take you onto the training grounds and allow all the warriors to see you."

"He's not ready for the training fields Thor," Loki hissed, wanting desperately to knock the large hands off his child and hide him away until he was sure the boy could handle himself and not be the subject of ridicule Loki had been when he'd been put against his foster brother at a young age.

"Nonsense, Loki! I can feel the muscles of this child; he will be fine," Thor pressed. "What do you say child?"

"I don't wants to fight," Toki answered, his eyes downcast as he tried to squirm out of the tight grip.

Thor just gripped him tighter. "WHAT? Every Asgardian male should be prepared to fight under their king's banner. Midgard has made you soft; tomorrow you will join me and I shall teach you the nobility of being a warrior."

"Thor," Loki protested, rising from his bench and grabbing his arm in such a way to force him to release Toki. Toki immediately began rubbing the finger-shaped bruises and backing away. "If Toki does not wish to fight, then he shouldn't have to."

"Toki? Really that is what you named him brother?" Thor snorted.

"Daddy names me," Toki protested quietly.

Thor waved it away. "Regardless we already have one male who plays the woman's role in the family. Imagine Father's shame if his only grandson were to walk the same path."

Loki flinched as though he had been punched in the gut. He released Thor's arm and held up his hands beseechingly, staring into the golden eyes of his adopted brother. "Thor, we have women walking the warrior's path now. Look at Lady Sif. In time the sex of the person will not matter."

Thor shook his head. "I love you brother but we are not commoners. As the royal family, we must always be a symbol of strength to Asgard. Your 'Toki' must learn either the warrior's way or I shall have to shave his facial hair and place him in a dress right now."

Loki's eyes flashed as he realized the implication both for himself and his child. "Do not even think of it."

"It is not as though you have not donned female garments before, Loki," Thor reasoned.

"I wore them as a joke, Thor, and never for more than a day or two. BUT. I. AM. NO. WOMAN," Loki hissed through his teeth.

"Loki, you have never fought like a man with shield and steel but with woman's magic. You have lain with men and born a child. You have never even grown facial hair. Despite what other organ may be between your legs you are no man in the eyes of the court, brother. Do not force your child to be viewed as the same."

Cold shock ripped through Loki. The court had labeled him as a woman. In doing so they had effectively stripped him of his rights and named him, and to some extent Toki, the property of his father and brother until they were to give him to a husband. Loki began to shake in terror at the thought and he soon dropped to the ground, unable to stand on his own.

Toki noticed and immediately ran to his bearer's side and wrapped his arms around him. "Pater?" Toki questioned. Loki opened his mouth to answer him but couldn't make a sound.

"Do not worry, brother. I will only allow the best suitors to court you," Thor comforted as he placed a large hand on Loki's head to run soothingly through the dark brown hair like he had when they were children. Loki swatted it away, earning a hurt expression from Thor but the blond did not try again. "Friend Hogun has already expressed interest in your hand. He would be a very good match, Brother. He will not harm you."

There was a moment of silence before Loki announced, "Toki, your uncle is right. Tomorrow, he will take you to the training grounds and teach you the ways of an Asgardian warrior. Do not allow them to taunt you; keep your head up and show no emotions other than happiness or anger. If you prove yourself, you will have gained your rights to property, speech, and body as a man."

"Whats you means, Pater?" Toki pressed, confusion on his face. "Womens can do and says whatever dey wants to…"

"Not here on Asgard," Loki answered. "A woman has no say in court, politics, ownership, or their suitors. If their family allows it, they can have final say in who will be their future husband but the husband must be from the suitors chosen by their family. Once married, they often do not even have say over their own body. The husband dictates their sex life and how to raise the children."

Toki's face went bleach white, icy-blue eyes open in terror as his hands flew unconsciously to his stomach and sex organs as though to shield them from any unsavory touch.

"Your child is like you… isn't he, Brother?" Thor asked in a soft, sad voice.

Loki sighed and confirmed in a low whisper, "He is."

"Then we should make sure he proves himself a warrior as soon as possible."

It was late at night and many beers later when Nathan finally gathered the courage to seek Charles out. He stumbled his way, glassy-eyed down the hall from the living room towards Charles' office. He nearly tripped over his own feet several times but he was able to find the wooden door despite his blurred vision. He fiddled with the knob a few times before he actually managed to get the door open, half expecting to find the room empty and dusty once more with Charles' broken glasses lying like a shrine offering on a tidy great oak desk.

But there he was; sitting at his desk like he had never left with piles of paperwork spread around him as hazel eyes scanned the pages of the document. "Was there something that you needed, Nathan?" Charles asked without even sparing him a glance. Or maybe he did. Nathan's vision was going a little fuzzy around the edges and there may be two or three of him.

Nathan shook his head to clear it. "Uhhh…" Three Charles looked up at him. Beautiful hazel eyes seemed luminous in the light of the desk lamp. Like a moth to a porch-light, Nathan found himself suddenly standing before him and the vision cleared slightly, the pale copies of Charles now much more distinguishable. "Umm…"

Charles sighed. "Nathan, I know Toki's kidnapping was not your fault. Now, leave me be while I try to find out how to get our son back." Instead of stumbling away as he would have in the past, Nathan simply stood there, watching a little blue highlighter move across a page and then another until it reached a document almost completely full of blacked out words. "I need a better security clearance," Charles mumbled with just the slightest pout to entice the huge man leaning over him.

Before Nathan knew it himself, he had completely leaned over the desk and captured his former manager's chin and began to ravish the man's mouth. He'd only kissed that mouth once before at the man's supposed funeral when he had whispered his secret romantic 'like' of the man. It was warm and moist and felt so much better than the mouth of a groupie against his yet there was no response until a hand roughly pushed him back.

"You're drunk, Nathan. Go lie down."

"Yesss… I uh am bu… bu… but I… uh… you."

"Go lie down, Nathan. I do not have time for drunken games."

Suddenly extremely angry, Nathan knocked two stacks of paper off the desk and growled, "Not a game…" Before Charles could knock him away, Nathan had his hands on the back of his head and mid-back with his lips once again on Charles, pressing deeper and seeking the tiny tip of the other's tongue. Caressing and twirling that tip with his own until they were both panting for breath, Nathan repeated in a soft almost forlorn voice, "Not a game."

Large, fumbling hands ripped the strange, casual black t-shirt up, revealing ivory skin and two little coral nipples pebbled and aching to be sucked on. Nathan immediately obliged them, earning a loud moan from the owner before the singer pulled him by his arms out of his seat and onto the desk where the slim body could be properly worshiped. Paper scattered everywhere as the manager moaned again, looking up at his drunken captor with his glasses askew and face flushed a blood red at the cheeks. Next, the jeans were roughly stripped off, revealing tented black boxer shorts that were quick to follow. Then there was a coral organ standing at attention.

"Nathan… you're drunk. Don't do something you are going to regret…"

Nathan had hated going down on women and the thought of touching another man's organ besides his own had once made him almost as green but this was Charles and he soon captured the organ delicately between his lips and began to bob his head as Charles fisted his hands in his hair as large bulbous fingers sought the puckered entrance.

"Top… uh…uh…left… drawer… lube… can't do… ug… oh, gah… dry…"

Nathan had wondered what that tube had been. He opened the drawer with the hand he had been using to tease Charles' entrance and found it easily. Slathering some hurriedly on his member and Charles, he growled out a single commanding, "Mine!" before pushing in the tip as tears formed in Charles eyes.

"Too big…"

Nathan ignored the protest, pushing forward and easing even more inside him. Soon all that mattered to either one of them was the feel of the other's body. No one noticed the tall blonde standing shocked in the doorway before quietly closing the door and leaving them to it. And this new relationship… neither knew how it would dealt with in the morning.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I was trying to figure out how to best write this one without it being cheesy.

Watergoddesskasey: I'm glad.

Slaughter3211: Hope this lives up to that statement.

Oshii-enma: thanks!

Sweet sexy loli: I don't think Charles and Loki will have much of a relationship anymore. If they do, it will be a strange threesome.

MewMew2: It was something I was thinking of during the first Thor movie because neither seemed to be in any relationship.

Lukando: I think Thor really is a big papa bear sometimes.

Bloodpocky: Loki's mischief is usually always discovered by someone.

Supercutelolita: I try!

Starbolt10: Charles basically has to be Toki's dad in cannon too. He punishes him and sets him straight.

Iewuciukaz: At least Nathan gets his point across with his actions here…

SLASHMONSTER: Lol. Well, it explained all his kids. And yeah… Loki is usually abused.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Loki is far more nervous than his son the following morning, his hands trembling as he helps the boy into one of his old breastplates and leather guards with detailed snakes like a strange border on the top towards the elbow. Toki finally calms him by taking his hand and promising he'll be fine but Loki can tell Toki is just as nervous. Loki, in return, gives his child a tight smile and begins to comb out his hair before pulling it back into a low horse-tail that he makes more secure by braiding three loops. Loki is wrapping the loops with a leather band just as Thor comes into the room with heavy footsteps.

"You ready, Nephew?" Thor asks with a smile, holding up Mjolnir like a banner in excitement. Toki nods, sending a small strand of light brown hair that Loki couldn't capture into his eyes before rising to his feet. "Then come."

Loki finds his hands reaching out involuntarily to draw the boy back to him but they meet only air as Thor escorts the boy out of his suite. A part of Loki screams at him to run into the hall and snatch his child back into his arms, but he ignores it. Toki has to prove himself a man today or forever be labeled like him. Loki turns to the small window in his lounge area and looks at the small sliver of light on the horizon.

Loki desperately wishes he could go to the training fields with them but 'women' are forbidden to set foot on the grounds out of safety. There are some grounds manipulated by old magic, like the mountain avalanche zone, that even Lady Sif is forbidden to use despite her warrior status. If Loki were to violate these rules, his child would most likely bear the consequences and he would not have Toki reprimanded by his father if he could help it.

So Loki used his magic to summon one of the benches to slide under the window and sat down, waiting for the sun to fully rise for morning meal where the warriors of the court would rejoin their families for breakfast. For hours, he sat there wondering how the training was going and how many bruises his child would come back with. For a few minutes, Loki even contemplated taking his child to another realm but there was no way to mask him and his child's presence from Heimdal permanently. Odin or Thor would find them and bring them back. For that matter, what realm would offer the same semblance of safety that Asgard offered?

He must have fallen back asleep at some point for the next thing he knew the sun was shining on his face and there were soft noises coming from the Great Hall, indicating morning meal was commencing. The slight crack and shift of his bones informed Loki he'd been laying in an uncomfortable position. He straightened his attire and checked himself in the mirror before walking as fast as possible without drawing attention to his anxiousness to the Great Hall.

The first thing Loki notes is the sound of joyous laughter and the teasing, playful tones of men. Then there is the smell of fish and ripe fruit as he enters the open door before he sees the hall almost completely filled with Asgardian men, women, and children. Most do not look up as he enters the hall but the few who do offer him smiles and he is instantly suspicious as he begins scanning the area for his brother and child. He finds them sitting at the far end of the hall surrounded by Thor's friends.

Relieved, Loki almost runs to gather his child into his arms, no longer paying attention to anything else at the moment. The minute Loki reaches them, his anxiety is eased by his child's steady voice. "…and den Pickles jumps ons Dr. Rockso ands…" Loki interrupts Toki when he gently touches his child's shoulder, forcing Toki to turn to him. "Hi Pater!"

There is a large swollen blue-purple bruise on the bottom of Toki's jaw and a red, irritated looking scrape on his left hand but his child seems oblivious to his injuries. A big, warm smile is stretching Toki's face and a matching grin is seen on Thor beside him. Both are covered in dirt and sweat but Loki doesn't care as he clutches Toki closer. "Your child has proved quite the warrior this morning, brother," Thor states as he gestures to the empty spot on Toki's left and (conveniently) Hogun's right to sit down.

"Oh?" Loki questions as he takes the seat and gently lifts, Toki's chin with one hand to see how far the bruising goes. He will have to rub some cabbage leaf salve on it later.

"Yes, the boy took on Georolf the Bald and won! Never seen such fierce fury in my life or such a strange fighting style," Volstagg supplied as he raised his glass of water in mock toast to Toki and took a huge gulp.

Loki turned and saw Georolf several tables up sitting with his wife, who was fussing over his leg and side. Georolf was a man whose bulk rivaled Volstagg's, with a muscular chest that was half the span of Loki's height with muscles to match. "And why was Toki facing Georolf, Thor?" Loki questioned in a low tone that made Thor fidget in his seat.

"Well… I…"

"He said means things abouts yous ands Papa," Toki interrupted his uncle. "I teaches him not twos."

"That boy of yours is a berserker, Loki," Fandral supplied. "Thor had me teaching him how to fight with a sword when Georolf made a comment about your… ways… The kid instantly turned on him, discarded the sword, and started striking out with his legs and fists so fast they were the air itself! Never seen that type of fighting before…"

"Papa hireds mans to teach mes kickboxing," Toki clarified somewhat bashfully. "Buts I nots really dos it rights."

Loki raised an eyebrow at Thor who was grinning sheepishly. "He proved himself," Thor reasoned as he pushed around a piece of smoked salmon on his plate. "Father was even pleased."

"The All-Father took Toki into his arms and declared him worthy of the house of Odin," Sif confirmed as she took a delicate sip of her own water glass. Loki stole a glance to the head of the hall where Odin sat with Frigga laughing at something one of the older warriors, Kel the Red, was telling him.

"Who would have thought that a child with Loki's face would be such a fierce wolf in battle!" Volstagg boasted, reaching over to clasp Toki's shoulder in affection.

"Or such an interesting story teller," Fandral added with a smirk that turned lecherous as his eyes settled on Loki. "What do you think about having another one with me?"

Loki rolled his eyes.

"Another what?" Toki asked innocently just as Fandral let out a hiss and turned a sharp scowl at Hogun.

"Nothing of importance," Hogun answered as he returned Fandral's scowl with a warning glare, making Volstagg howl in laughter and Sif to shake her head with a soft smile.

Volstagg stood up, to offer another toast; an event that ceased all talk in their area. "I wish to offer my congratulations to the newest warrior of Asgard, Toki the Wolf-Eyed. May you be a warrior that will forever make your uncle proud." Thor answered with a 'here, here' and chugged a large gulp of his water as everyone followed suit. "And may any other children of Loki be equally or greater blessed." There was another 'here, here' as Loki glared at Volstagg.

Talk resumed again in the hall like nothing had happened. As Loki began to assemble his own morning meal on his plate, Hogun leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Loki, would you join me in the garden after breakfast?"

The fork with the small sliver of salmon stopped right next to Loki's lips before he set it back down briefly to answer the question. "If I must…" Loki said flatly before turning back to his breakfast and ignoring the frown of the man to his left and the startled expression of his son to his right.

Charles awoke to the feeling of being buried under mounds of blankets on an uneven floor. When he realized the blankets were moving, he thought initially it was James on top of him until he felt the long hair brushing up against his neck. James sported an army cut, so whose hair was tickling him? Hazel eyes snapped open and were met with the sight of a large arm curled possessively around him and long black hair cascading down a large back as well as something very large and pokey pressing the top of his thigh.

Oh, f(guitar riff)k. He had sex with Nathan Explosion, who stank heavily of alcohol and would likely need another liver transplant sometime soon if he had been drunk enough to sleep with him.

This would definitely affect his work.

Charles attempted to slide his body out from under the heavy one atop him but his movement earned no ground and only served to cause Nathan to tighten his arm with a grumble about sunlight. Seeing there was no way out of it, Charles called out, "Nathan."

"Gtuddrrr," was the grumbled reply as the large head borrowed more into the crevice of Charles' neck and shoulder.

"Nathan," Charles called again, more firmly this time.

One green eye cracked open for a moment before the singer mumbled, "It's not two yet; go back to sleep, Charles." Charles instantly stiffened in shock, waiting for Nathan to realize who he was grinding his morning wood into. Minutes later the green eyes snapped back open and met hazel in shock. "Uhhh… did…uhhh…"

"Yes, we did," Charles confirmed, keeping his face and tone neutral. The incident would be easier for Nathan to brush off if he demonstrated no emotional attachment. "Now, would you kindly get off me?"

For several minutes, Nathan just stared at him with a strange expression on his face that made him look like he was constipated and did not budge. Then, the large hulk of a man released Charles out from under him and slid off the surface, which Charles realized was his own desk. With the stains and memories they had left on the hunk of wood, it appeared he had to order another desk from IKEA.

"So… um… what…" Nathan's large hands gestured slowly over the singer's body.

Charles stole a glance at the disheveled metal star and had his eyes linger slightly on the large organ that dangled between the hulk's legs. "Don't worry about it, Nathan. This never happened. Now, kindly leave my office so I can focus on the more important matters…"

"HEY!" Nathan interrupted, his body tense. "But uhhh… we… and… you…" The singer seemed to be at a loss of words, not that unusual but Charles could usually piece together what he was trying to say. In this case, Charles would have to guess.

Charles covered what parts he could with his hands as he slid delicately off his desk and winced at the soreness, but having seen the organ that had been inside him hours earlier, he was surprised he could move at all. "Nathan, you were drunk and I was sleep deprived. This would not have happened any other way and it does not mean you are gay." Green eyes shifted to the floor in either embarrassment or guilt. "Now, kindly hand me my jeans over by the sofa and we will behave like this never happened."

Completely ignoring the manager's request, the singer instead turned around, pulled on his own pants and boots. "Nathan?" The larger man ignored the soft call and left without saying another word. When the door slammed behind the hulking singer, Charles sighed and went about the painful task of picking up discarded papers, pens, and garments with an aching lower body.

A stray piece of paper caused him to slip and Charles fell painfully on his already sore behind with a groan. When he turned to angrily glare at the document, Charles noted the crudely carved wooden image of the God Loki from a modern day village in Norway near Lillehammer. What got his attention was the fact that the image was pregnant.

Although Charles did not believe his former lover had been the actual God, Charles could not help but think that there may be a possible connection between his Loki and a village that worshipped a pregnant Trickster god.

He had more research to do.

This was not how Loki wished to spend the morning. He would much have preferred to attend to his child's bruises immediately but he knew he had to dissuade Hogun's pursuit of him before the warrior's emotions for him became too strong. So, he had agreed to a walk in the garden with the dark featured man.

Every inch of Loki's body was tense as they walked, the grass crunching beneath their feet as Hogun led him down rows and rows of greenery until it was clear they were alone and Hogun stopped and took Loki's long-fingered hand in his calloused one. The touch was gentle yet immediately set Loki on edge as he turned to gaze into the sharp, dark eyes of his brother's friend only to freeze in shock. The look the man was giving him in the privacy of the garden was the look one would give their most treasured person in the nine realms. What gave Hogan the right to look at him in such a way?

"Release me," Loki ordered.

Loki tried to pull his hand back gently but the warrior held firm as he moved in front of Loki and used his other hand to gently lift Loki's chin. "Loki…," Hogun began, lightly rubbing their middle fingers together, "I beg of you to listen…." Loki immediately stilled. When had anyone begged anything of him? "As children, I was drawn to you. At first I believe the reason was because your features as well as your quiet nature were similar to my own people. As we grew older, I admired your mind. Unlike our comrades, you always thought things through before acting except when it came to matters of the heart. After your preferences were revealed, I waited to see if you would come to me."

He paused, dropping his gaze. "Instead…you went to a golden Aesir, Fandral no less, in disguise of a woman. While the others thought it was a great prank, I knew the reason why you had done it. I kept silent and waited for you to seek me out for counsel as you had done when we were children but then you fled…"

Loki scrunched up his nose at that word. He hadn't fled; he had left of his own accord to find happiness in another realm.

"I already stated my intentions to court you to your brother and he has given me his permission. On my mace, I pledge my protection of both you and your child if you accept my suit."

The trickster was taken aback by the offer of protection and for the briefest moment Loki considered saying yes to the courting but his stubborn ways quickly caught up with him and reminded him that Odin had yet to order him to consider suitors. Whether that had been an oversight or a result of guilt, Loki would not take another husband until it was his last option.

"As tempting as your offer is, I'm afraid I must decline at this time."

Hurt crossed the dark warrior's face, but he released his light hold on the other. "Very well but in time perhaps you shall see my worth as a husband." Then the dark warrior left the way they came and Loki breathed a sigh of relief. Getting rid of his first suitor had been easier than he expected and perhaps the other single men of Asgard would have no interest in a spouse like him who could easily turn their skin colors or rust their weapons. He might be able to live as a widower for the rest of his life.

Smirking at the thought, he left his place in the garden and went to seek out his child. He found Toki still sitting at the breakfast table long after the plates had been cleared with Thor, Lady Sif, and a younger warrior whose name escaped Loki for the moment. The boy was listening to some tale of Thor's exploits with an awestruck expression despite Lady Sif's occasional elbowing when the Hammer-wielder exaggerated on some detail.

Loki remembered the story well. When the two had been children, Odin had promised to take the two hunting for the first time but there had been a situation in another realm that required his attention. Never one to be denied, Thor had led Loki and his friends into the forest for their first hunt on his own and got them hopelessly lost. The small group had wondered aimlessly until they reached the cave of bear cubs and had almost been killed by the mother. Thor still bore the claws of the mother in his side as proof of his idiocy and in the end it had been Loki that had saved him… "Before I knew it, your mother had climbed into a tree and jumped on the bear's back to get her attention away from me…not that I could not have won the battle, mind you, but it gave Fandral and Volstagg enough time to flee into the trees themselves and me to…"

"To faint on the ground from blood loss and leave me to stab the bear with my hunting knife," Loki finished, his arms crossed over his chest as he stood right behind Thor.

"I did not faint!" Thor protested, but was smiling none the less. "I recall striking out with my own blade from the front and…"

"…And only struck the creature's paw right before it nearly squashed you as it fell." Lady Sif was laughing loudly at this point and was soon joined by Toki and the young warrior when Thor simply shrugged the comment off.

"Still brother, it was wonderful to see Father's proud face when brought our spoil home."

"I remember only his terrified face and not being able to sit for a week after he tanned our hides," Loki countered.

Thor laughed again. "By the Higher Gods, it is good to have you home again brother!"

Loki shook his head with a genuine smile before taking a seat next to his son and absently brushing back a long strand of hair that had escaped the tie.

"How did it go with Hogun, brother?"

When the laughter stopped and the people remaining all turned their eyes upon him, Loki cast a glare at his brother. Thor never seemed to realize what topics one kept private and what topics one could speak in front of stranger. "It didn't," he hissed.

"He would be a good match."

"Then perhaps he should be courting you," Loki countered, his glare intensifying.

Immediately unsettled with the change in mood, Lady Sif cast a quick, meaningful glance at Loki before asking, "Toki, have you seen the tapestry room?"

Toki's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Whys woods I wants to see dusty cloth pictures?"

"One depicts a battle scene I believe would interest you. Come." She motioned Toki away and, to Loki's concern, the other warrior followed as well like a puppy. Question was who the boy was following- Sif or his child?

When the three were out of ear shot, Thor softly addressed Loki, "Brother, you must consider your future and the boy's. Your husband left you with no Asgardian lands, property, or even a morgengabe to sell to support you and your child. Father is willing to provide for you now, but his time is drawing to a close and you know Mother's feelings."

"And you would not have me under your roof?" Loki questioned, anger and hurt clear in his voice.

"I do not know what the future shall hold for me as King, Loki. We may go to war and I may either perish or my future wife or children will cast you two out in my absence. You know how the people of Asgard treat you."

Slightly touched but unwilling to concede to Thor's point, Loki turned away only to flinch when a large, tanned hand came his way and brushed aside a lock of hair.

"Please consider my words, brother. I am certain Hogun would provide for you and your children if you would have him."

And then, just like that, Loki was alone again. By the Gods, did he hate it when Thor was right.

To be continued…

A/N: Sorry for the delay. My father passed away in September and I had trouble writing or doing anything really. If anything is disconnected or strange in this chapter please let me know.

Thank you for the reviews:

Lukando, Supercutelolita, oshii-enma, bloodpocky, adraven, toki-warooth, guest, iewuciukaz, mewmew2, and cassseee


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